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Friday, 16 October 2015

Evidence that even Fairy Godmothers can't always come up with the goods

To celebrate National Adapted Fairy Story Day, I thought I'd post a version of Cinderella.

It's NOT National Adapted Fairy Story Day?

National Adapted Fairy Story Day's not even a thing?







(Long white space to symbolise grief.)
















Well, I refuse to be bowed low by this tragic news, and hereby declare that, in my household at least, it is National Adapted Fairy Story Day. And here is (one of) my version(s) of Cinderella to celebrate it.


Cinderella

A beautiful girl called Cinderella lived with two ugly sisters who treated her like a slave.  One morning, an invitation came from the Prince to a lavish ball.  Both of the ugly sisters were very excited, and had already booked Botox appointments, but Cinderella, who was not allowed to go, despite being naturally smooth of forehead, was sad. 


A forehead? Or a part of Australia on Google Earth? 


            As the sisters set off that night, fluttering their fans, their foreheads newly-taut, Cinderella cried. 

            She sat alone in the kitchen.  Suddenly, there was a ping and Cinders glanced towards the microwave, but the ping was not to do with a Pot Noodle.  It was to do with a Fairy Godmother who had appeared in the corner of the kitchen.  (Cat flap?)   Unlike most Fairy Godmothers, this one was not smiling or happy.

            ‘What’s the matter?’ said Cinderella, kindly. 

            ‘It’s no good,’ said the Fairy Godmother.  ‘I had all these great plans to send you to the ball in a coach made out of a pumpkin and now it can’t happen.’ 

            ‘But why not?’ said Cinderella, thinking that she had never before received good news and bad news in such quick succession.

            ‘Because Nigella made pumpkin soup on TV last week and I can’t get a pumpkin for love nor money,’ moaned the Fairy Godmother, her head in her hands.

            In the end, Cinderella made the Fairy Godmother a cup of tea and they both sat, disconsolate, until they heard the Ugly Sisters clacking up the garden path.  The Fairy Godmother pecked Cinderella on the cheek, said, ‘Maybe next time, poppet,’ and disappeared.  

            Cinderella sighed and awaited the arrival of the Ugly Sisters.  She knew that they would gloat over the evening’s events; she could only console herself with one thing.  The party guests must have noticed that, despite having preternaturally-smooth foreheads, the Ugly Sisters’ necks and cleavages were as saggy and wrinkled as Noah’s testicles.





12 comments:

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    1. I do like her programmes, though! I love the way she just chucks food around without being pretentious.

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  2. Nice one, Fran. I had a chuckle at this. Not sure who I feel more sorry for, the Ugly Sisters or poor old Noah!

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    1. I guess that one's all about perspective!

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  3. Heavens , any Fairy Godmother worth her salt could surely find a giant vegetable marrow and turn it into a strech limo , instead .
    What's Fairyland coming to !

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    1. They're not what they used to be. Just like Wagon Wheels and Creme Eggs.

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  4. plenty of pumpkins in the shops around here... I think that Fairy Godmother needs sacking x

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    1. I agree. Shocking lack of initiative.

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  5. This was brilliant - much more realistic and lifelike than the real thing. I prefer your version. And, most importantly, it gave me a Sunday night giggle :)

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    1. Thanks, Deborah. I was going to say that all teachers need that Sunday night giggle then I remembered you don't work on a Monday any more!

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  6. Burst out laughing at that last line :D

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    1. That's good, because I considered for a long time whether to put it in!!!

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