What happens to fairy tales when your typing isn't up to scratch

Today, I'm going to try and tell a story in pictures by using Gogle oops I mean Google Images.  (Hope that typo thing doesn't keep happening when I'm searching for my pictures in Google.  It could really ruin the story.)





The story of Cinderella

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young woman called Cinderella who lived with her two ugly sisters.  However, it was not a happy household because they treated her as a servant.  Her main job was cleaning out the hearth.  Here is a picture of the hearth she had to clean, taken from Google.

As I was saying, Cinderella had to clean out the heart every single evening.  This meant sweeping out all the arteries of cholesterol and leaving it totally clean, ready for the next day.  (Her two sisters, both heartless, shared the use of it.)  

After cleaning the heart, she had to make the evening meal.  Here is a picture of the meal she made one particular day.

                                        

That evening, the three of them ate until they could eat no more, but there were still plenty of leftovers and Cinderella had some work to do inventing recipes for the next few evenings.    

The conversation over dinner was about the invitations which Cinderella's two sisters had received that morning to a Ball at the palace.  Here is a picture of the Ball. 

                                      

'What do we do when we get there?' one sister was asking.  'I mean, I know we'll be with the royals and all that, but when it comes down to it, looking at bricks is just looking at bricks, whoever you're with.'

Cinderella thought this attitude shocking.  She would have done anything to have been invited, and yet she'd be left at home all evening with nothing to do but work while they were enjoying themselves at the Wall.  Oh, how she wished there was a solution.

That evening, Cinderella sat gazing at the heart, picking at some of the remains of the evening seal just because she had nothing to do, and wondering how her sisters were getting on at the Wall.  Suddenly, an enormous fairy appeared in the room.  Here is a picture of the fairy.

                                            

This was a big shock to Cinderella.  Room in the little cottage in which she lived was now at a premium.  But her heart began beating fast.  Somehow, she knew that the appearance of the dairy, so suddenly like that, had something to do with her being able to go to the Wall.  But she just didn't know how it was connected.

And neither do I.  Erm ....

Hang on a minute ........

Just one more minute .... 

Ah, yes.  I've got it.

Just as Cinderella was wondering what the connection could be, she looked into one of the giant canisters into which the milk was being piped, and saw that it was different from the others.  It was all shiny and gold, and had wheels.  Aha.  Perhaps this wasn't a milk canister at all, but some kind of vehicle which could take her to the Wall.  Indeed, just as she was thinking this, one of the cows turned into a black stallion, attached itself to the canister/golden coach, and said, 'Get in, then.  It's late.  We can't spare an udder minute.  And make sure you're away from the Wall by midnight for us to bring you home.'

'But I have nothing to wear!' wailed Cinderella.  'I need some new shoes and a dress.'

And, just as she said that, some beautiful sparkly silver dainty shoes and a dress appeared.  Here is a picture of the dress.

Cinderella, in her cress and her sparkly silver dainty shoes, certainly stood out from the other guests who were standing by the Wall.  In fact, she looked so different that no one recognised her, even her two sisters, so when the Prince decided, on first seeing her, that there was no one with whom he would rather stand and look at the Wall than she, the sisters looked on enviously as did everyone else, wondering who the stunner in the salad outfit was.

However, when the clock struck midnight, Cinderella broke away from the crowd looking at the Wall, and ran away.  As she ran, she lost one of the shoes, which the disappointed Prince picked up, saying, 'I'm sure this belonged to that girl in the unusual cress.  Tomorrow I will try to find her.'

The next day, the Prince turned up at the house of the two ugly sisters and Cinderella.  The two ugly sisters tried on the shoe but it didn't fit, so the Prince said, 'Is there anyone else who lives here?'  'No,' said the ugly sisters, 'only our maid.'

'Can I see your maid?' he asked, his heart thumping.  He just knew that a moment of destiny awaited him.

'Okay,' they said, and went to fetch the maid.

It was an unusual wedding.  'It's not often,' said the vicar to a colleague, 'that I am asked to marry a royal personage to a pile of letters, but each to his own.  I suppose these days anything goes.'

And that is how it came to be that Cinderella spent the rest of her days with her ugly sisters, having missed out, because of some loser's typos, on a happy ending.  

And what became of the Prince, married to a variety of letters, bills and adverts from window companies?

'Actually,' he said to a friend, 'it's not that bad.  When you've lived your life attending Walls, just because that's the social expectation, even waking up with a selection of correspondence doesn't seem too bad.'