The king started having sleeping problems, and every morning, he would wake up with his pillow in his mouth and curled in a fetal position. As for the queen, she started knitting little baby booties and wearing them herself…one on each toe. And both of them were starting to use baby talk with each other and walk around with dolls they had named Imababyboy and Itsagirl.

Frankly, it was quite disturbing.

So, naturally, the entire kingdom was quite relieved when the royal couple announced they were FINALLY going to have a child. Secretly, the royal advisors quietly canceled the appointment with the local mental institution, assuring the men in white that their services were no longer needed. Indeed, great was the celebration in the very far away land of Twistedfairytales, and everyone was invited to the christening of the baby. Well…everyone that was anyone anyway…

Everyone, that is, except Ugdaria the Ugly. Despite her intense anger at being slighted, it actually was all just a small, accidental misunderstanding. The queen had “accidentally” forgotten to add her name to the guest list, the king had “accidentally” not written her name on an invitation, and the royal advisors had “accidentally” forgotten to mail said invitation. So, as you can see, it was all just a big accident so Ugdaria really had no reason to be angry at all. But she was. And this was not a good thing because Ugdaria was an…

EVIL WITCH WITH DIABOLICAL SCHEMES AND POWERS
(a.k.a. she had insanely big issues…or maybe she was just insane…)

Well, anyway, the kid was born (a girl), the palace was decorated (in cotton candy pink), and all the guests arrived (with all sorts of pink paraphernalia). It was a simply scrumptious day for a christening: it was cloudy (meaning the fairies were going to “shower” the baby with blessings) and it was raining (meaning everyone was going to be at the palace since there was nothing better to do). Everyone was there: Snow White and her harem of little men, Cinderella and her handsome hunk Imjustaprettyface, Rapunzel with her Prince Iwasblindbutnowisee, Ariel with her singing hermit crab (a bit hit at such gatherings), and – of course – the fairies: Eustacia, Eugenia, and Eupigia.

Eustacia the Water Fairy oozed as gracefully as she could up the steps to the crib (someone had accidentally poured oil into her pond – no worries, he’s been punished…and deported to another dimension but that’s another story) and chirped, “For my gift, I wish to bestow upon this adorable child a voice that is so beautiful every window will crack with shame when she sings.”

Everyone oohed and aahed at this.

Eugenia the Flower Fairy waltzed up to the crib and looked at the baby, croaking, “Well, her looks are nothing to speak about, but I can fix that. For my gift – which I do not really wish to bestow but I am doing anyway out of the goodness of my heart – I give this baby the gift of beauty. This little baby shall be so beautiful that every mirror will crack with shame when she passes.”

Everyone applauded loudly and approvingly.

Next came Eupigia. Now, Eupigia used to be the Fairy of Bright Ideas but she hadn’t exactly had one in over 3000 years, so over time, she came to be known as the Lightbulb Fairy instead. At first she protested, but she gave up after about 1000 years. And, face it, it’s not like anyone was listening to her protests anyway.

So Eupigia the Lightbulb Fairy crawled up to the crib (the lightbulb on her head was new so she hadn’t adjusted to its weight quite yet), opened her mouth, and…

Was interrupted. By Ugdaria. Who was very loud. Who had many issues.

“WHY WAS I NOT INVITED?” she bellowed. “IS IT BECAUSE I’M UGLY? I DEMAND A DIRECT ANSWER!” Of course, no one answered even if they wanted to. Well, Prince Imjustaprettyface tried, but Cinderella was able was able to shut him up by sticking her glass slipper in his mouth, thank goodness.

“FINE! NOW I AM ANGRY! BEHOLD, YOU SHALL ALL KNOW MY WRATH! THE WRATH THAT IS MINE!!! MWAHAHAHAHA – NOW, LET ME SEE THE LITTLE CRETIN.” Ugdaria pushed her way through the crowd and waddled her way to the crib, staring at the little squealing baby with distaste.

“I AM GOING TO GIVE THIS CREATURE A PIECE OF MY MIND. YOU…YEAH, YOU…NO, LOOK AT ME…AT ME…NOT THERE…YOU KNOW, IF I DIDN’T HATE YOU SO MUCH AND PLANNED TO RUIN YOUR LIFE I MIGHT GIVE YOU BRAINS SINCE YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY LACKING IN THAT AREA! ANYWAY, BACK TO BUSINESS, I BESTOW UPON THIS…THIS THING THE GIFT OF A YOUTHFUL DEATH!” she cackled, waving her pudgy finger at the cooing baby.

There was a collective gasp of horror in the room.

“YES!! YOU WILL DIE BY PRICKING YOUR FINGER WHEN YOU ARE SIXTEEN! AND GOOD RIDDANCE, I SAY.” With that, Ugdaria turned in a humph and left the palace, leaving swooning women, outraged men (plus a very confused Prince Imjustaprettyface), a horrified royal couple, and three flabbergasted fairies in her wake.

“M-my d-dear Eup-pigia, is there n-nothing you c-can d-do to reverse this tragic c-curse?” stuttered King Mymomwantedagirl.

“Y-yes, Eup-pigia, surely you c-can do something,” sobbed Queen Wishuponastar.

Eupigia drew herself up to her full height – a whole three feet’s worth – and said with folded hands and quiet dignity…

“No.”

After a moment’s pause, she scratched her knee and said, “However, I might be able to make it less harsh…” She shuffled to the baby and whispered, “little one, you will prick your finger, but you will not die. You will merely sleep until a prince wakes you up.”

Everyone audibly sighed in relief.

Everyone, that is, except King Mymomwantedagirl. You see, he suffered from chronic insomniac paranoia, and the very thought that his precious little baby would actually prick her finger (and don’t even get him started on that whole sleeping/dying thing) was simply too much for his tortured mind to take. So after the christening, he sent out a decree:

To Whom It May Concern –
Which is all of YOU –
Anything with sharp points or angles
(i.e. roses, spindles, needles, combs, pens, paper clips, certain teeth, etc.)
MUST be disposed of IMMEDIATELY.
Violators will be escorted out of town
where the wolves of the woods will probably eat you
since none of them have been able to have a decent meal
since that whole Red Riding Hood fiasco.

And it was all done as he commanded. As a result, by the time Princess Imcursedndealinwithit was fifteen years old, there was not a sharp object in sight. Every corner had been rounded, every rose had been burned, and every spindle used for a bonfire (which was the main attraction of the spontaneous Burnt Marshmallow Festival that year). By now, everybody was positive that nothing was going to happen, so a special renaming ceremony had been scheduled for the princess’ sixteenth birthday.

But someone knew better. Someone who had been plotting ever since she had been told that her curse had been partially changed. Someone whose BIG issues had gotten BIGGER.