Once Upon a Time.
That is how most fairy tales begin, isn’t it? Once Upon a Time. Well, it is my duty as the half-hearted narrator of this irregular yarn, to inform you that this is not like most of the fairy tales you have ever read before. But before we do get started on this so-called story that is desperately trying to pass off as literature, let me try to get one thing straight for you. I hate fairy tales. Fairy Tales, to me, always seem to be so full of annoying characters and questionable morals. I mean, what exactly is the whole moral behind Cinderella? Is it, if you’re poor trailer trash but very pretty, you should knowingly lie about your true identity to a rich man at a high profile social event and everything will eventually work out all right in the end? It is my educated guess that the story of Cinderella was written by a woman. Why else would the crucial climax to the whole story revolve around her putting on a comfortable fitting shoe? The disdain I have for Cinderella is nothing however compared to the unadulterated contempt I hold for Hey Diddle Diddle. What in the good lord’s name, is that little nursery rhyme trying to teach us? Is it that we should take our dishes and spoons to highly paid therapists so that they might not feel they have to run away together? Is it not to let cows compete in the high jump, because they’ll only end up in space? Little Dogs laugh! What on earth are you talking about? Little Dogs bark, you stupid idiot!
If, after that little tirade, you’re expecting there to be more significant morals in this particular story, then please, think again. As I said, this isn’t your usual fairy tale.
You may be asking yourselves, if I hate fairy tales so much, then why am I narrating one? Is it, because I love children so much, that I want to bring some well-deserved happiness into their adorable little lives? If that’s what you’re thinking, then you’re gravely mistaken, as I hate children too. I probably hate children just as much as I hate fairy tales. In fact, if there weren’t any children in the world, then there probably wouldn’t be any fairy tales either, so I guess I hate children even more.
The truth is I’m narrating this story against my own free will as part of my community service, set upon me by the Grand Judge of The Realm of Utopia. You will find out why this unfair sentence was passed upon me some other time in this series of superficial stories. I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself however, as I always say the best point to tell a tale is at the beginning, so that is where I am going to take you. Back to the very beginning.