Frisky Fairy Tales II

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1.  The Beast & Beauty - 3

2.  The Beastly Beauty - 12

3.  The Bremer Town Fest - 18

4.  The Capitalistic Hen - 36

5.  The Elves and the Drunk - 43

6.  The Gingerbread Man - 53

7.  The Goose and the Egg - 59

8.  The Ice Princes - 70

9.  The Piper of Hamilton - 78

10. The Prince of Frog - 84

11. The Princess and the Pea - 94

12. The Three Little Pigs  - 102

13. Goldilocks - 107

14. The Valiant Prince - 114

THE BEAST AND THE BEAUTY

Lorily Linsome lived in a remote Swiss mountain valley with her mother and two sisters. Though their father had been carried away by a snow avalanche three years ago, their lot wasn't too bad. Mom still had a lot of looks, and Lorily's sisters were pretty sharp themselves, but the biggest and best beauty of all was Lorily. Oh, she was a good-looking baby doll.

She was a dark-haired beauty with a peachy cream complexion and legs that didn't quit. In a bathing suit, bikini or one piece, she drew all the attention at the beach. Unfortunately, Switzerland has short, cold summers, so bikinis aren't worn very often. One-piece suits aren't either, but that goes without saying.

So, Lorily's beauty lay hidden under the customary dress of the mountain folk, long dark skirts with lace trim that reached to her ankles and heavy cotton and linen blouses that covered her from waist to chin. Obviously, her beauty was diminished, but she did all right for herself and her family. Every other afternoon during the week, she walked the streets of the local village singing old style Swiss love songs in French, German, and Italian.

She was quite a linguist, but then most Swiss are, seeing as how they are like the United States without an official language. So, Lorily would pass beneath the windows singing, and old and young men would look outside and throw her coins and ask her to sing their favorites. Now, her voice wasn't that good. In fact, the pastor had kicked her out of the church choir, but these men were local inhabitants who had seen her during the village's two-week swimming season.

So, Lorily walked the streets singing, and made a pretty decent living, but she wasn't satisfied. Sure, she made enough to feed and clothe Mom and Sisters and herself, and they ate regularly, and Mom was even banking enough to send Sisters to the community college in Lucerne, but Lorily wanted more.

There isn't anything else, so quit complaining, Mom told her one evening after three hours on the streets.

Lorily's voice was hoarse, and she was cold for it had been a bitter day.

Mom, she gasped. There better be. I won't last through another winter like this one.

Mom scoffed at her. You're only seventeen. You've got a lot of winters left in you.

Lorily looked down at her ice and mud crusted skirt. In just two more days she'd be out singing for pennies again. Yeah, she was cold, but it was her voice that was going. (Try belting them out for three hours a day, every other day, and see how you feel, especially if there is a gale.)

Lorily undressed and took a hot bath and dreamed of a better life, one not dependent upon the local villagers. After all, look at what had happened in the United States. A recession, a banking crisis, and a good president voted in and expected to clean up the mess in a few years.

No, she had to find a more reliable source of income. Someday her voice would go, and if another beauty moved to the village, her goose would be cooked or frozen. Not Granny Goose, whom they kept in their barn, but Lorily's caboose, which was trim and shapely, but frightfully cold and like everyone else's would drop someday.

That night after supper, she read herself to sleep with Mother Goose's Nursery Rhymes. All night Lorily dreamed of princes and princesses and kings and queens and lovely maidens saving frogs or enchanted princes from fates worse than death with a single kiss. She woke the next morning feeling better and more refreshed than since her last day at the beach.

Overnight she had found her true calling. She would sell kisses to enchanted folks and save their lives. This was a profession she could live with, one that would give her satisfaction and pay well and keep her off the cold icy streets.

There were still a number of principalities in Europe with rumors of family members enchanted by evil folk who were taking revenge upon the royal family. Why even in the next valley there was rumored to be a beast named Bernard who terrorized his neighbors with nightly jaunts to the nearby bars.

Brave men fainted at the sight of him, fair maidens hid under their covers when they heard he was in town, and the local chamber of commerce paid him to stay off the streets during tourist season. Village mothers even disciplined their children by threatening to send them to Bernard, a fate no six-year-old wanted.

Yes, Lorily thought, she could help Bernard and the villagers and turn a nice profit while doing so.  Her only problem was deciding on how much to charge.

Bernard undoubtedly would ante up, just to be handsome again, and she could hit up the village burgermeister and chamber of commerce, and there were the sops at the bar who wanted to drink in peace, the girl scout leaders, and the vicar who would pay handsomely to rid his congregation of such a beast. By the time she rolled out of bed, Lorily was sure she could make $45,000, more than two winters of singing.

And that was just the beginning. With the help of social media, she was sure she could find even more lucrative gnomes or trolls hidden away by wealthy families who would pay gladly to see their loved ones normal again. If not, she could always play the tabloid angle and sell her stories and theirs and make even more money. Nothing pays better than National Inquirer she thought.

Her plans hit a big roadblock that morning at breakfast.

Absolutely not, Mom said as she  ladled a glob of oatmeal into Lorily's bowl. We're doing all right with your singing. Now be quiet and eat, I've worked all morning fixing your favorite breakfast.

It's instant oatmeal, Mom, Lorily pointed out. Even the Little Swiss Miss Chocolate is instant.

They're good for your vocal chords, Mom reminded her.

But Lorily was not to be swayed so easily. The next afternoon during a really bad blizzard, she refused to go out and sing.

Why should I, she snarled at Mom. I can make a lot more money kissing enchanted people.

Would you kiss an enchanted princess? one of her sisters asked, aghast at Lorily’s desire for money.

Sure, I would. A quick kiss and I've restored her to the beauty she once had. It's no skin off my nose or lips.

That does it, Mom yelled. The girls and I are going out singing.

They did too, and they lasted almost thirty minutes. When they returned their skirts were covered with ice and mud, and Mom was near tears.

Those men said the most awful things to us, and Ernie the bar tender even asked if we'd like to work at night getting men to buy watered down drinks. It was awful.

See what I've been going through? Lorily asked tenderly.

I understand now, dear, Mom replied. Tell me about your enchanted kissing plan.

Once again, Lorily explained herself and begrudgingly Mom gave her permission. Three weeks later, the weather cleared, and in another two, the snow had melted enough for Lorily to walk to the neighboring valley, where Bernard the Beast lived.

Now, Bernard wasn't exactly unhappy with his life as a beast. True, children screamed and ran when they saw him, and there weren't many local girls waiting for dinner invitations, but his parents had had money and made him read The Power of Positive Thinking, and sent him to the Dale Carnegie institute.

Being so armed, he was willing to sit alone in a dark corner of the local bar and have a few beers, and he'd dated a few of the more desperate village girls who had made him wear a mask. All in all, he considered his life full and complete. He studied astronomy on the nights he wasn't drinking, and he'd written a drawer full of terrible poetry that even the self-publishing companies rejected.

But his beastly looks gave him power. Enchanted at age six when he kissed a toad that turned into a beastly witch, he'd learned to love being ugly. Wolves, bears, any wild animal ran when they saw him. Children screamed, brave men quivered, and those girls stupid enough to date him, were afraid to say no.

It wasn't the best of lives, but Bernard was happy with it.

Meanwhile, Lorily had arrived in the village and was meeting with the burgermeister and his council.

I'm telling you, guys, I can transform this beast for you.

Immediately, Franz, the burgermeister saw that Lorily wanted money.

Bernard isn't all that bad. He scares a few kids but they always mind after that, and he doesn't bother anyone at the bars. There have been a few complaints from the girls he dates, but they didn't have to go out with him, Franz explained patiently.

You won't have any complaints when I get done with him, Lorily said. As she spoke, she began to unbutton her bodice and then stepped from her skirt and petticoats. Beneath, she wore only a shimmering white one-piece bathing suit.

Wow, you can swim at our beach any time you wish, one of the council members said after a moment of stunned silence.

Sorry, fellas, but you only have a one-week swimming season. It's not worth the trip.

How are you going to tame the beast looking like that? Franz exclaimed. You'll just arouse the beast within the beast.

The beast is on the outside. Inside, he's like every other man, and I'll show him what he's been missing, Lorily explained patiently, not realizing that a few of the local girls had already shown Bernard what she thought he had been missing.

They began to negotiate and within an hour reached an agreement for fifteen grand if she swam at their lake next summer for the whole season. Next, Lorily approached the girl scouts and then the vicar and finally the PTA. Before the day ended, she had fifty thousand in securities and hadn't even met Bernard.

Later that evening, Lorily raised the clanger on Bernard's huge castle door. Her walk from the village had been somewhat festive. Twenty to thirty of the village men had followed her to the edge of Bernard's property, and then said goodbye and wished her luck.

They weren't particularly brave about Bernard the Beast, but they had heard from the council members about Lorily's looks and wanted to see more. Already, they were waiting for the next swimming season. It was for sure that the beach would be crowded.

Inside the castle, Bernard was busy brushing his mane and making ready for a night of carousing and frightening children and chasing bears. He might have been ugly, but he was neat and always wore the latest fashions and hand sewn shoes. It's another story of how he found tailors and cobblers willing to take his measure.

Clang, the clanger went.

Bernard stopped in mid-brush stroke and looked quizzically into the mirror. He was so startled to have a caller that he couldn't believe his ears.

Clang, the clanger went again. Bernard took one last look, patted his face and then went to answer the door. It wasn't a long walk from the mirror to the door. Bernard kept a set of toiletry articles and an assemblage of cloaks under the front mirror close to the door.

He opened it and looked down upon the lovely Lorily. It's best now to stop and describe Bernard. As beasts went, he wasn't that big, only six-one or two. But his shoulders were broad, and his waist narrow, and his legs thick and strong. One of Bernard's greatest passions was physical fitness for the day might come when the bears didn't run, and he would have to high tail it home.

Actually, Bernard had the build of an NFL running back, but the mixed face of a leopard and chimp, and the long mane of a lion. Lorily took one look and shuddered. Wow, she wondered to herself, can I really kiss this thing?

Yes, young lady, Bernard questioned her politely.

Lorily remembered the long cold days of walking the streets and steeled herself for the worst.

Oh, kind sir, she said with her most delicate voice, I'm lost and cold and miserable. Could you please help a young waif in distress?

You came to me for help? Bernard asked incredulously.

Yes, Lorily answered. I'm new to the area and had no way of knowing you were a beast.

Aren't you frightened? Bernard asked.

More revolted and disgusted than anything, Lorily admitted.

Already, Bernard was sizing Lorily up. It was quite apparent that she was one nice looking lady, not a common street walker. And remember, he was a very lonely beast who only went out with the ugliest girls in town, whom he frightened into cooperation. (Dale's confidence course could only do so much.)

Well, come in and get out of the cold, he said as he made room for Lorily to enter.

Soon, they sat at Bernard's dining room table sharing a hot cup of tea while Lorily nibbled on a ham and cheese served on rye. Though the sandwich was full of cholesterol, it tasted better than Mom's instant oatmeal.

How did you get lost? Bernard asked her.

I was walking through the village and followed the road up to here. I don't know how to get back, she told him.

It's a straight shot from here to town with no turn offs, Bernard informed her.

I'm easily confused, Lorily admitted as she scanned the enormous dining room table and the double living and sitting rooms