Fairy Tale Balloon Poll: Round Three

  • Apr. 1st, 2009 at 7:04 AM
ninamazing: Black-and-white close up of Cosima from Orphan Black smoking. (bill haverchuck ftmfw)
Round One: Cinderella's stepmother
Round Two: Prince Charming

"Any minute now, if it's all right with Charming here," says the Beast through clenched and impressive incisors.

"Princess," begins Charming in a rather puffy way, "this glorified mongrel must be at least five hundred pounds. I trust that makes your decision easy."

"Her decision?" puts in Scheherezade, who is on her third shot of Baba Yaga's spirits and has rapidly coloring cheeks.

"Muscle outweighs fur," counters the Beast, but his words are pained, as if he is trying to control himself. Off a wink from Baba Yaga, he abandons this effort and hurls Prince Charming over the side in a frankly beautiful combination of movements. Little Red and Hansel gasp, the former with a dainty hand at her mouth; Gretel, on the other hand, looks thrilled. Rumpelstiltskin and the Frog Prince find it easiest to keep their expressions snide.

Sleeping Beauty rolls onto her other arm with a soft sigh.

"So does anyone know if she's likely to wake up?" Gretel pipes up, surprising everyone. Cinderella gives her a reproachful look, and Gretel shrugs. "Just thought it'd be an easy solution to our problem," she adds. "We can strap her with a parachute, can't we?"

"Do you see a parachute?" Rumpelstiltskin snaps, and earns himself a high-five from the Frog Prince.

Gretel just sulks.

"Gretel isn't wrong," says the Princess of the Pea carefully. "Sleeping Beauty is hardly contributing. And don't people weigh more when they're sleeping?"

"I'm sorry, where did you say you'd gotten your physics degree?" inquires the Frog Prince. Rumpelstiltskin erupts in guffaws, elbowing him in the side. The Princess rolls her royal eyes.

"Narcolepsy is hardly a choice," Cinderella argues. "She deserves a chance."

"I agree with Cinderella," announces Little Red.

"I agree with Little Red," adds Hansel, and simpers like a boy who's had a lot of practice at it.

"You're all feather-spined simpletons," Baba Yaga tells the assorted company. "Obviously we just need to make modifications to the propulsion system. I live in a moving house, for the Goddess's sake."

"And a summer cabin in Siberia," Scheherezade remarks. "Which is lovely."

"You speak English?" the flabbergasted Beast asks Baba Yaga. Cinderella nods as if she, too, is awaiting the witch's answer with bated breath.

"I speak Old Church Slavonic," Baba Yaga answers. "You think your little Anglo-Saxon grab bag is a challenge?"

"I have some great stories about that month I spent with you in the summer house," muses Scheherezade, lost in her thoughts. "God, was Vladivostok Customs hell ..."

"Maybe you can tell us after we decide who to toss out next," says Gretel: a child's awkward attempt at gallows humor. "The little arrow on the compass thingy is still bouncing."

[Poll #1376063]

Voting closes at the tail end of Thursday. Which is to say, 12:00 AM Friday, with leeway for your various time zones.

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We celebrate peace. Yet we pay no attention to the ways of curing aggression in human beings. And when one sees in psychoanalysis hostility disappearing as people conquer their fears, one wonders if the cure is not there.
The Diary of Anaïs Nin; August, 1945

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