A really bad fractured fairy tale written for a contest to write a bad story.
|Once upon a time long, long ago in the land of ogres lived a prince named Smudge. The first thing every morning Smudge confronted his mirror,
“Mirror, mirror on the wall,
who’s the meanest of them all?”
To which, for the last five hundred years, it replied,
“From all the kingdoms far and near,
there’s none who generates more fear.”
This pleased Smudge and encouraged him to go out and do more ogre-ly things, like ransack the homes of the weaker citizenry, to maintain his reputation. Until one morning his mirror replied to the oft’ asked question,
“Prepare yourself, Prince Smudge,
and please don't hold a grudge,
but Rumor’s spread the tale
of a fierce and foul-mouthed male.”
Despite the mirror’s plea, the prince let out a howl. Its reverberations nearly caused an earthquake. He demanded,
“Show me. Show me. Show me now!
Who dares to test my ire?
I’ll tear apart his arms and legs
and throw them in the fire!”
The mirror obliged revealing a child one-tenth the size of Prince Smudge. When he saw his competition Smudge laughed uncontrollably, so much so the mirror thought he would fall off the wall and shatter to pieces. Smudge said, “I could stomp on that runt of an ogre. He cannot be a match for me!”
“Though he be a little tyke
His words impale you like a spike.”
Smudge decided then and there to summon the young ogre to the castle, to which end he sent one of his knights. Within the hour the knight returned bawling. In between his sobs he said, “The lad (sniff, sniff) refuses (sniff, sniff) to come.”
“Stop your blubbering, you coward. Why didn’t you just grab the runt and bring him to me? He’s no higher than your shin!”
The knight took a deep breath and then said, “He...swore at me and called me horrible names, ones I could never repeat.”
“Off with you!” ordered Smudge. “And never report to my castle again. Berated by a pipsqueak! Who hires these imbeciles?”
“It seems,” Smudge said to the back of his hand, “I must attend to this business myself. He demanded the footman prepare the carriage.
To the reader, be it known that intimidation prevented others from ever speaking cruelly to Prince Smudge. But “the runt of an ogre” knew nothing of the prince and his infamy, so he held nothing back when the pair met, speaking such obscenities and malicious verbal assaults as no adult should speak - much less, a child.
The young ogre’s brashness and malice shocked Prince Smudge into silence. Smudge’s words indeed, and as the mirror implied, were mere flattery in comparison. So, the prince retreated in temporary defeat, vowing to himself that he would return, better equipped.
But in the meantime, while back at the castle, and to placate himself, he would ask,
“Mirror, mirror on the wall,
who’s the meanest prince of all?”
The mirror gladly replied,
“Tis you, of course, who holds that spot,
a most impressive juggernaut.”
And this, as the reader would suspect, pleased Prince Smudge very much.