The Little Merderer

Objective: To take a regular fairy tale and twist it around for a new audience to elaborate on.
Guidelines:
Every month there will be a new regular common or uncommon fairy tale that needs to be elaborated upon.
          You can do this in the following ways
                    Poem [40 lines, any form]
                    Short Story [1500 words]
          You may enter as many times as you want.
~ If there are less than seven contestants then only the first place will be rewarded. ~
Deadline: 10 February 2011, midnight WDC time.
The Fairy Tale: The Little Mermaid
Here's a link to help you remember the story.

http://ivyjoy.com/fables/mermaid.html

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The Little Merderer

By Indelibleink

Author's Note: This story is actually the corrected version of the so-called fairy tale The Little Mermaid (as has been referenced earlier above at http://ivyjoy.com/fables/mermaid.html), allegedly written by Hans Christian Andersen. Some of you may be surprised to learn that what you have been led to believe to be the so-called "authentic" version for all of these years was, in fact, fraudulent. Allow me to elaborate: Most of us have heard of the recent discovery of a cache of uncirculated U.S. gold coins in France, right? Heck, it's been all over the cable channels! (So it must be true). Well, anyway, along with the gold coins, a dusty, moth-infested manuscript was also discovered. Anyone care to venture a guess as to who the author of these papers was? Yes...You ma'am...Yes, the one in the third row with the purple hair...Say what?...Hans Christian Andersen, you say? Well, my friend, you are absolutely, totally, one-hundred percent...wrong! Actually, the manuscript was penned by Hans' little-known cousin, Feets Lions Andersen. Wait, now...What's that, you say? That Hans was from Denmark, so how'd the papers end up in France? Just be patient...We'll get there! According to Feets, Hans' real name was Milton. Yep, just plain old Milton Andersen. But, Feets goes on, Milton had this tendency to "borrow" things without paying for them, and - over time - he acquired the nickname, Hands. Additionally, it was well-known that after having downed a couple of drinks, Milton was known by all - both old and young - as being somewhat of a "groper." When Milton decided to become a writer, his agent decided that the biggest obstacle they had to overcome was clean up Uncle Miltie's image, and the first order of business was drop the letter "d" from Milton's nickname, since Hans sounded far more innocent, and - given the circumstances was considerably less intrusive, literally - than Hands. Next, in what you'd have to regard as the ultimate stroke of marketing genius, they gave him the middle name of Christian. Seriously, is that not Damage Control 101 at its finest or what? Can you appear any more squeaky-clean than tooling around with a name like Christian? Anyway, to make a long story short - and it's probably waaaay too late for that - Hans moved to Paris for a "fresh start," particularly since he still had two years to go with his probation and he was tired of not being allowed within five-hundred feet of elementary schools. He sought out his cousin, Feets, also an aspiring writer. Hans and Feets got along just swimmingly, but the living arrangement also afforded Hans easy access to Feets' manuscripts while Feets was working his day job as a shoe salesman. Feets asserts in these newly discovered documents that, one day while Feets was fitting a customer into a nine-and-a-half (wide) penny loafer, Hans became Hands once again and Feet's prized manuscripts - along with Hans - disappeared! Poof! What is known today as The Little Mermaid had only been about half-completed when Hans absconded with it, and Feets speculated that Hans had a ghost writer finish the story for him. Lions never forgave Christian (they addressed each other by their middle names) for the theft, and vowed that if he had ever caught up with Christian, it truly would have been "Christian vs. Lions." However, Feets (probably wanting to put his best "foot" forward) included this - the authentic version of The Little Merderer - in with his other newly discovered papers. So, it is probably safe to assume Hans, in fear of possible copyright violations, changed the name of the tale. Equally apparent was the fact that Feets didn't have access to any spell-checking software back then. But, in the interest of protecting - as well as finally displaying - Feets' work in its original state, we leave the title as is, with the uncorrected spelling of "Murderer."  We continue now with the actual, as-it-was-really-meant-to-be version, resuming right where the little mermaid pays a visit to the sea witch. With hopes of trading in her scales for human legs which would allow her to hook up with the handsome prince, the mermaid approaches the ugly urchin...

"I know what you want," said the sea witch, who then rattled off a list of things that the little princess would forfeit if she drank the magic draught the witch would supply. Basically, the transformation from haddock to hottie would be a painful and costly one: the princess would feel like every step she took would be on sharp knives - and we're not talking K-Mart blue light specials here - we're talking a Cutco-quality, "Oops! Just lopped my big toe!" - kind of sharp here.

"That's not so bad," the female flounder countered, "I once dated a guy who was into spurs and fish hooks and..."

"Silence!" Apparently, the old hag didn't like having her methods trivialized. "There's more...I will also cut off your tongue, so I may sing as you do now: with beauty and grace."

The frightened fish jumped back (or, as much as one with a tail could jump, anyway). "But, how ever will I communicate?"

"You might want to brush up on your sign language, my pretty!"

The not-yet muted mermaid glared at the sea witch. "Oh, I have a sign just for you already!" And, the mischievous mollusk demonstrated, apparently, what her hand would look like if all of her fingers were cut off (with the exception of the middle one).

The old woman remained unshaken by the brash bass's, um, brashness. "Anyway, look at the bright side: without a tongue, you won't be getting any demerits for talking in class at your preppy fish school, now, will you?"  The old sea sickie cackled at her own joke (well, as much as one can cackle underwater, anyway).

The feminine flounder thought for a moment. She really did want to win the prince over, and only chance of accomplishing that was if she looked more like a human and less like the main course in a Friday night fish fry at the American Legion Post. "All right...You win. But, to be honest, Seabiscuit, I'm really not all that down with the cutting-off-the-tongue thing..."

"Be back tomorrow at first light, prepared to part with your tongue, or we have no deal. Understood?"

The little princess, pretty much bummed, nodded in agreement. "I will be here."

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The next morning, just as they had agreed, the gallant guppy arrived at the sea witch's shanty. She knocked at the door several times before the sea witch answered.

"Well, you decided to go through with it, did you?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

The sea woman eyed the princess suspiciously, and saw that she was carrying a box with a beautiful bow (well, as beautiful as a soaked bow can be 600 feet under water). "What's that under your arm?"

"It's a gift, M'lady, a gesture that I hope will convince you to rethink the necessity of cutting off my tongue..."

"Nonsense!" And the sea witch grabbed the box from the stunned princess. Just as quickly, she then spun the terrified teen around and put her in a choke hold, which initiated the gag reflex, which prompted the princess to open her mouth to gasp for, well, air, I guess, even though they were underwater. Anyway, the heartless hag took the teens tongue with a mighty snip of her pruning shears. "Wow, it just doesn't get any easier than that." She then threw the princess the draught that would soon give the tongueless teen her coveted human legs.

As the girl consumed the diluted draught, the hag then began to tear open the gift that the girl had brought with her. She was surprised to see that the box contained what appeared to be nothing more than bloody fish guts, which she promptly discarded and threw about the surrounding area. "What on earth are these for?" she queried.

The muted mermaid pointed into the box, and the sea witch looked in and removed a piece of paper, which read, simply, "Chum."

The old woman just stood and scratched her crooked nose."What ever is 'chum'?"

Again, the silenced siren pointed at the box, and again, the hag removed another piece of paper that read, "It's fish bait, used to attract sharks."

As the oceanic ogress looked over at the princess, she saw the princess pointing directly high above the old lady, and sure enough, there were at least a half-dozen sharks making a bee-line for the hag. Quickly, the woman looked desperately to the princess, who, for a third time, pointed to the box. This time - with feverish fingers as the sharks were rapidly approaching - she fumbled with the last paper, and read the message, which said, "I know the magic command to stop the sharks. I can save you."

The harried hag was beside herself in panic, as the sharks were now mere seconds away. "Okay, you win! Make them stop. I'll give you whatever you want! Please!"

The girl nodded and looked up at the hard-charging sharks, and began to speak, but - oops, that's right - she no longer had a tongue, did she? She looked at the old woman, pointed to her own muted mouth, and tried to talk, but when nothing came out, simply shrugged her shoulders, and gave the old lady that "Oh well - You-probably-wish-you-hadn't-cut-off-my-tongue" look. That, by the way, was the last sight the old bag ever had, as the ravenous sharks quickly made a "happy meal" out of her. The sea was, therefore, a much better place.

As for the princess, well, she got her legs, and the painful feet thing was somewhat cured by a really good pair of Dr. Scholl's inserts (the heavy-duty kind, for "when your feet feel like you've been walking on knives"). Of course, the dream of finding the handsome prince was now out the door since the former mermaid was now wanted on a "murder one" rap, so the muted merderer spent the rest of her life lip-syncing Carrie Underwood tunes for food, and running from the law.

The End
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Words: 997