Teen Time

Little Miss Muffet and the Evil Elf

This is the story of how Little Miss Muffet married an evil elf.

Little Miss Muffet and the Evil Elf

          Once upon a time there was a dainty, fragile girl with skin the color of hot chocolate. She had curly black hair, beautiful eyes with lashes as long as your finger, and the cutest little button nose. This pretty young woman was sitting in her favorite spot, on a three-legged stool, and she was eating her breakfast. She had a big bowl of oatmeal, which she liked very much.

          A leprechaun dropped down from his rainbow of gold. "Hello, little girl," he said, “Have you seen Goldie Locks?”

          Little Miss Muffet curled up her nose and sniffed sadly. “Yes, I saw her yesterday. She’s always playing with a little brown bear now. I think, kind Sir, that you can find her deep in the forest inside the house of the three little bears.”

          The leprechaun laughed, gave Muffy a wish, and jumped back onto his rainbow. Then he soared into the sky, riding the bow as if it were a bucking bronco and he a champion rider.

          Little Miss Muffet took another bite of her oatmeal and thought about the wish the leprechaun had given her. What should she wish for? She encountered a raisin with her tongue, and spat it out into the grass.

          "Oh, thank you," said a little ant, ignoring the lime green grasshopper that hiccoughed by.

          Little Miss Muffet slid down off her stool and peered down at the little ant. “You are very welcome, Mr. Ant,” she said politely.

          The grasshopper leaped back over to them and paused to play a song:

Oh, the summer is long.
But if you sing a song,
It widens the length of the day.
And then you are free to play
With your friends. Hurray!
It’s summer all month long!

          The ant started arguing with the grasshopper, not even waiting for the second stanza of the song. Angrily, the little ant picked up his raisin and marched the grasshopper off towards the barracks as he busily lectured the little hopper about his improper footing.

          Little Miss Muffet sighed and stood up. She was just about to arrange herself back onto the stool when Cinderella came rushing over.

          “Muffy, what are you doing still eating breakfast?” Cinderella was huffing and puffing. She was panting between breaths looking exactly like the wolf that lived in the house next to the three little pigs. (That poor wolf was always out of breath because he was so determined to blow his neighbors’ house down. He so desperately wanted to sell them insurance, but they kept saying that their house was secure and none was needed. Poor Mr. Wolf!)

          Little Miss Muffet almost laughed at the resemblance, but she knew not to do so. Cinderella had too many mischievous friends to get on the bad side of her! Once Little Red Riding Hood had made fun of Cinderella’s dirty, soot-covered dress, and mice had torn apart Red’s beautiful scarlet cape. Now Little Red had holes in the train, and Fairy Godmother, who usually fixed everything, had gone to the Bahamas.

          Rumpelstiltskin had promised to fix Red's cape, but he always wanted someone’s first born child, and of course, she wasn’t willing to agree to that! She was engaged to Pinocchio, and they had no intentions of giving away their little wooden babies!

          Thinking about the cape and about some of the other stories she’d heard about Cinderella’s injustices, Little Miss Muffet responded politely to Cinderella’s query. “I slept in this morning because I was up late last night with Snow White. She has the flu, you know, and no one else was able to help out with the meals for the dwarves. I fixed them spaghetti and then oatmeal for breakfast. Grumpy didn’t like either of those things, but Happy smiled at me.

          "Poor Snow White! I think it’s her stepmother, the queen, who keeps sending evil servants with rotten apples and germs. Will the wicked queen ever get over her jealousy of our friend, do you think?

          “Don’t talk to me about stepmothers!” cried out Cinderella. “I have my own problems in that department!”

          Muffy nodded sagely. She knew all about Cinderella’s stepmother. It was all Ella ever spoke of - the constant lectures about how Ella didn’t work up to her ability, how messy her room was, and how she must be home before midnight when she went out with the prince’s stableman.

          Muffy sighed. She hoped not to have to hear all about it again. Her oatmeal was getting cold as a wintertime creek-mud facial.

          “Listen,” Cinderella demanded, causing Muffy to stop in the middle of a bite of her oatmeal. “I need to borrow your blue dress again, okay?”

          Muffy finished the spoonful and then placed the bowl down in the grass. “You have another date with Harry? I thought you were grounded for getting back late last weekend.”

          “No problem.” Cinderella snickered. “I have some magic spell lotion that Fairy Godmother left me. I’ll just smooth that over a couple of pumpkins, and my stepmother and stepsisters will never notice that I’m gone.”

          Little Miss Muffet stood up, went into her cottage, got her favorite frock, and returned with it.

          “No riding the horses in my dress,” Muffy said, bravely standing up for once to Ella’s demands.

          Cinderella laughed. “Don’t worry, Muffy. This time I won’t get your dress dirty. Now that I’ve won Harry over, I’m moving on to the real target. The prince is going riding tonight, and I plan to meet him.

          “The prince? You’re setting your cap on the prince? I thought he was supposed to be Sleeping Beauty’s prince.”

          “Nah. She hasn’t slept long enough. One hundred years, remember. That means that Prince Charming’s great grandson might be the one who wakes her, but not Prince Charming! So he’s fair game.”

          “But what about Snow White, then? Isn’t she supposed to marry a prince?”

          “Every principality has a prince,” Cinderella explained as if she were talking to someone with a slightly reduced IQ. “There are plenty of princes to go around. You could get one if you wanted. The Frog Prince is two kingdoms over. The Prince and the Pauper are in Britain, and the Twelve Dancing Princes aren’t all that enamored with their dance partners, and in Scotland there are eleven lords a leapin’ if you don’t mind looking a bit lower than a prince.”

          “You don’t understand, Cinderella,” Miss Muffet said. “I have dreamed all my life of marrying someone who loves me. That’s why I sit here on my three-legged stool, waiting. I know there's a prince out there for me – but he doesn’t have to be a royal prince. He just has to be a kindly man, a gentle man, an honest man who will love me.”

          “Do you know how long Rupunzel had to wait for her prince? She brushed her hair for three centuries before one finally passed by. Staying in one spot and waiting, just doesn’t work. You have to get out and meet people. You have to maneuver and plan . . .”

          Little Miss Muffet was tired of the conversation. She handed her dress to Cinderella and watched as Ella sashayed away. Once more Muffy sighed softly and sat down on her stool. A single tear fell down into her lap, ricocheted off her dress, and plopped down onto the ground.

          Suddenly an elf rose from that exact spot, drawn to the fragrance of her tears. “Why do you cry, you lovely thing?” asked the elf.

          Muffy stared into his eyes. Was he the one? His face was streamlined into exquisiteness. His eyes, sharp and penetrating -- and green as the hills of Ireland, immersed her into spellbound anticipation. She wet her lips and leaned forward.

          “Answer me, human. Why do you cry?” the elf demanded.

          “I'm lonely,” she answered him shyly. Her eyes dropped to stare down into her lap. More tears followed.

          “You've had many visitors this morning. Why should you be lonely?”

          “Yes, you are right, Sir Elf. I do not mean to complain. I am fortunate in my friends.”

          “But still you are lonely?” the elf continued. He kneeled beside her, and his hands gripped her shoulders, as if holding her still while his eyes poured into her soul, urging her to talk.

          “I want . . .” she began, but she stopped. She couldn’t think of anything to say.

          “You want what all mortals want," the elf said softly. His hands freed themselves from her shoulder and he moved to caress her face.

          Muffy inhaled sharply from the shock of his touch. His fingers were burning her face. In that very instant, she was wrapped completely in love’s spell.

          The elf laughed. There was no falseness to the sound. It peeled like the softest bell. Her eyes raised, and she met his lips.

          To love an elf is a whirlwind. It sweeps one into the greatest delights -- not even heaven can compare. Thus was Little Miss Muffet under the elf’s enchantment.

          Suddenly, the spider who lived beside her, spun out his web, and on a single lifeline, bravely dropped down onto the elf’s hand.

          “Ah,” screamed the elf, bolting up and flinging the spider across the yard. Poor brave arachnid! He was only saved by the strength of the web’s hold. Battered by the velocity of the swing, he held on and recovered slowly. He withdrew back into his web, and sat, panting from the exertion of his feat.

          Meanwhile, little Miss Muffet flung herself down into the damp grass, and her tears fostered new growth. Tiny violets sprang up from the drops, and they bloomed in bursts of sweet fragrance that spread across the meadow. Muffy was unaware. Her dismay was so great that she was lost in misery.

          The elf stood, staring down at the maiden. She was so beautiful! He wanted to go to her and assure her of his love, but he could not lie. He did not love her. But staring at her beauty, his cruel heart cracked, and he flung his hand across his chest.

          Then he turned on a heel, and slid back down into the chambers below the girl’s cottage. There he ruminated on the spell he had cast over her.

          Now elves are not normally evil, but this elf had long ago strayed from the fold. Thus did he live, not in the wonder of Elfdom, but in the bottom regions in the land of the Dwarves. And he, vile elf, spent his days prowling, doing evil and sending poor young maidens into sighs of love.

          He had been watchful of Little Miss Muffet for months, and yet, he had not, until that very moment when her tears brought him to the surface of the mortal lands, seized the opportunity to visit her.

          Elf Elor shook his head in disbelief. He had permitted a simple garden spider to interfere with his intent to bring Miss Muffet into his underground cavern.

         Elor roared with anger, yet a part of him -- the part that listened to the crack of his heart -- trembled and wondered at the change inside him, a change that was widening as his thoughts dipped and churned.

          Meanwhile, Little Miss Muffet, finished with her tears of self-reproach, stood up and walked to the side of the small spider who had saved her.

          “Thank you, my friend,” she said, with eyes red from grief. "I am thankful." But once more her heartache overtook her, and she dropped to the ground in agony.

          It was many minutes later, that she heard the quiet whistle of the spider. She raised her head and turned to look upward. "Yes, my friend? What would you have me do for you?"

          “Nothing, my dear. I ask nothing in return. You are my friend. That is what friendship is.

          At his words, more tears flowed down Muffet’s face, but she was no longer as miserable. She was once again remembering how good it was to have friends.

         When her sniffles quieted the spider continued. “You love the elf.”

          “I cannot love him. He is a villain!” she protested, raising her swollen eyes to stare at her friend.

          “You love him. I have seen love before. You wear your heart in your tears. I have eight eyes -- all the better to see, my dear.”

          Muffy sighed loudly. She dried her tears with the white apron that overlay her simple cotton dress. Once more she stood up, and edged closer to her friend.”

          “It was not wise to give my heart to a handsome face. I did not measure his goodness first,” she said.

          The spider laughed. “There is goodness in all. You can save him, fair maiden. You have the power.”

          “Me? I have no power. Cinderella has potions to make a prince love her. Sleeping Beauty sleeps so beautifully a prince will one day chop down a whole briar patch for her. Rapunzel has hair like a carpet of multi-colored roses. Even Snow White has her own magic that will draw a prince to her. What do I have but the ability to sit on my three-legged stool and dream?”

          “You have already drawn forth an elf,” the spider told her. “He is a dark elf -- dark in his lonely unhappiness, but he is a prince of the realm of Elfdom. And you have cracked his heart. Do you know what that means?”

          “My friend, I beg to differ. I have no power to draw forth an elf. It was his magic that enchanted me!”

          The spider laughed. His web swung gently in the morning’s breeze. The crystals of dew on the strands were drying, but still they sparkled like jewels.

          Little Miss Muffet, fascinated by its splendor, reached out her hand and touched the fragile web.

          The spider chuckled. “Draw your hand away, maiden. You tickle my leg hairs. I do not want your enchantment!”

          Muffy blushed.

          The spider smiled at her and continued. “Use your wish, girl. Wish the elf’s love.”

          “What wish?”

          Muffy had completely forgotten the earlier visit of the leprechaun. She wrinkled up her face with a puzzled expression. Then as she recalled it, the radiance of her smile of remembrance almost knocked the spider from his web.

          The spider sighed and turned away, quickly repairing a section of the web where the breeze had unraveled it slightly.

          While his saliva flowed and his spinnerets wove, the little spider recited over and over: “I will not fall in love with Muffy. I will not fall in love with Muffy. I will not fall in love with Muffy.”

          Three times anything is always a magic number. It helped, but the spider couldn’t stop from gazing at Little Miss Muffet’s lustrous hair, curled and woven like the most elegant of webs –- the kind spun by candlelight.


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          The next day Little Miss Muffet was once again sitting on her tuffet, eating her curds and whey when Cinderella came back with the blue dress. The dainty, blue frock smelled of horses, just as Muffy had suspected it would...

          Cinderella’s conversation was full of the prince. He had taken her onto his white charger and cantered about the forests while chatting of flowers and spring. Ella was completely in love (again) and talked incessantly.

          By the time she was through telling about it, the sun had risen into the sky and the clouds had drawn around it, hiding its glory. As the day gloomed, Cinderella finally took off, and Muffy set forth to wash her dirty blue dress.

          The first dribbles of rain began to fall, dampening Muffy’s hair. She was crying again, remembering how it had been the day before with the elf she had fallen in love with. She did not notice the misting rain until it grew heavy enough to wet her dress. Then dripping with sodden hair, Muffy darted back towards her house.

          Elf Elor was waiting for her by a fallen tree in the forest halfway between the creek and her home. The rain was pouring so forcefully by then, that Muffy ran right into him.

          “Let me go,” she cried out fearfully, but he denied her request. His lips captured hers, and her flung her down into the wet leaves.

          “You are mine,” he said.

          Muffy loved him. Her tears flowed, but her heart was his.

         Elor kissed her and then pulled back and stood staring down at Muffy in amazement. His hands clasped his heart. The pain that was battering him was like nothing he had ever felt before. He cried out, ”What have you done to me?”

          Little Miss Muffet sat up, gazing at the elf in astonishment. Her mouth dropped open. She was unaware how enchantingly beautiful she looked, even with her mouth a dainty "oh" in worry.

          Elf Elor screamed louder. “No! The pain!”

          “Let me help you,” Muffy cried in alarm. She bolted up and threw her arms about Elf Elor, desperately wanting to save him from whatever had befallen him.

          Elor held the girl away from him and stared down into her eyes –- eyes, like the warm springs surrounding Elfdom -- wide and innocent and pure. Her lashes, wet with the moisture of tears and rain, called for his kisses. Her streaked cheeks, her lips, trembling with unhappiness, her dainty, precious face . . . Elor clasped her to him once more in a quite embrace. He calmed her worry.

          “You are mine,” Elor told her. “Mine for always. You shall be my wife, my elf wifeling. Do you hear me?”

          “Yes,” Muffy whispered in between kisses. “I am yours.”

          The ant crept to the side, away from the two lovers. His jaws were sore from biting the young elf, but he wiggled his mouth back and forth, pleased by his success.

          The grasshopper played a gentle melody as Elor and Muffy exchanged words of love. The grasshopper's legs flowed across each other almost magically – bowing a song on the sweetest violin in all of nature.

          Up in the tree above Elor and Muffy sat the little leprechaun, clasping his hands in delight. Beside him perched Hansel and Gretel's angels, Cupid, several elves from Elfdom, the fairy godmother and Merlin. They all smiled at each other and silently clapped their hands.

          “Sometimes love needs a choir of angels and many friends,” the queen of Elfdom whispered.

         The fairy godmother smiled at her. “Yes, thank goodness we all have both,” she said. Beside her the spider who was Muffy’s best friend, nodded sagely and sighed.


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