Some Day my Prints Will Come by James Apps
‘Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who is the fairest of them all?’
Asked the Queen.
There was no answer. She didn’t expect one but there was no harm in trying.
Somebody told her that Snow White, her rival, was house keeping in the forest.
‘Bloody dwarfs, sorry, Vertically Challenged Persons,’ she said, feeling guilty but politically correct. ‘Little buggers are always interfering.’
She hoped her reflection wasn’t true.
‘I can’t be as ugly as that can I?’ she said.
But she was.
In the disguise of an old fruit seller she set off for the seven Vertically Challenged Persons’ house. In her basket she carried a special apple labeled ‘Danger - poison; do not eat; Snow White only.’
Snow White; beautiful but oh so exceedingly, incredibly, unbelievably dumb.
And that stupid macho Prince always calling on her. If those two get married it’s all up for me, she thought. Snow White and the Prince get the Kingdom and her? Out on her ear with a miserable pension.
No way! Snow White has to go!
The trouble with apples, thought Snow White, is that on the outside they look pretty good. Inside, sometimes they can be a bit floury, sharp, or, if she was lucky they tasted sweet and juicy.
As soon as Snow White bit into it she knew she had done the wrong thing. How many times had the little perverts warned her? Stuffy old Doc always said.
‘Listen you dumb bimbo don’t buy nuthin’ off nobody not nohow, see?’
She knew he was right but the apple looked delicious.
‘Try it my dear.’
Anything for free.
Wrong. The damn thing was spiked.
‘Oh shit,’ she mumbled, and fell to the ground.
The Queen, alias Old Meg the fruit seller, couldn’t resist rifling Snow White’s purse or the chance to trash the VCP’s cottage.
‘Rotten little perverts,’ she said.
She scattered their clothes all over the floor and broke their crockery. She tried a gold lame dress against her body, but it was far too small.
‘Horrible little cross dressers,’ she snarled.
She dropped the dress on the dirty floor and ground it in with her heels.
‘Now nobody will wear it,’ she said.
Back in the castle she stood before her mirror and smiled.
‘Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of them all?’
The mirror faded and answered.
‘Thou art O Queen the ugliest by far,
In all the land there’ll never be
Anyone else as ug-e-ly as thee’
‘Shoot, it’s never done that before,’ she said.
Meanwhile, back at the little house in the forest the VCP’s were home.
‘Where is that dumb broad?’ demanded Grumpy. ‘This place is a mess and there’s no dinner ready. What the heck’s going on?’
‘Hey, somebody’s trashed my best gold lamé dress,’ wailed Bashful.
‘Achoo! Oh bother, by dose is gibbing be hell,’ moaned Sneezy.
‘Eh what,’ said Sleepy, and forgot what he was about to complain of and dropped gratefully on to a pile of his own sexy underwear and nodded off.
‘Who cares about her,’ said Happy, whose real name was Gaye. ‘I mean, a dumb hetero with a penchant for little men; I mean, its hardly bona is it duckies?’
Tears ran down Doc’s face as he stared disconsolately at the broken pencils, torn up books and spilt ink that littered his desk.
‘I say boss,’ said Dopey. ‘I found Snow White.’
The Vertically Challenged Persons gathered around the inert body each thinking his own private and disgusting thoughts. Doc, as usual, spoke for them all.
‘She’s dead,’ he said.
There was a short silent pause.
‘Who’s gonna clean up the mess?’ asked Bashful.
‘No more singing around the house,’ said Doc.
‘Good,’ said Grumpy.
‘Whose gonna cook the dinner?’ asked Dopey.
‘Achoo!’ was all Sneezy could manage.
‘I suppose it’s back to washing my own smalls,’ said Happy whose name really and truly was Gaye; no kidding!
Sleepy turned over in his sleep and farted. ‘Pardon,’ he said, dreamily.
‘I suppose this means we’ll need another house keeper,’ said Grumpy.
‘Yeah, I’m going to miss her,’ said Doc.
‘Me too,’ echoed Bashful.
Sleepy farted again.
‘Achoo!’ explained Sneezy.
‘I won’t,’ said Happy whose name really was Gaye, honest!
‘Makes no difference to me,’ said Dopey, with a huge smile, who in spite of his name had discovered the meaning of the word necrophilia in one of Doc’s dictionaries.
The undertaker was fresh out of wooden coffins and sold them an ex-demonstration glass model. Recognizing a bargain Doc paid for it and carefully they carried it home. They laid Snow White inside and placed the coffin in the family tomb, and promptly forgot about her. Except for Dopey who mysteriously disappeared night times happily whistling the tune ‘I’m in the mood for love’.
Years later when the seven Vertically Challenged Persons had long ago found a new house keeper the Queen gazed into her mirror.
‘Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of them all?’
The mirror replied.
‘Well it ain’t you ducky,
Nor will it ever be,
Snow White is uglier than thee!’
Damn mirror’s got to go, thought the Queen, it’s getting a bit above itself.
Nevertheless she set off for the Vertically Challenged Persons’ house to check it out for herself. She’d spiked the damn apple with enough stuff to poleax an Elephant, surely the stupid chick couldn’t still be alive after that? At the house a man who looked suspiciously like the Prince crossed the yard. She waited until he was gone and scuttled up to the door and knocked.
‘Whaddya want lady?’ asked Grumpy.
‘Er, have you seen Snow White?’
‘Who?’
‘Snow White, she worked here once,’ said the Queen, irritably.
‘Oh yeah, the stupid house keeper, she’s been dead a long time ago, rotten singer, you’ll find her in the tomb, see yer,’ he said, and shut the door.
‘And up yours too,’ said the Queen.
Inside, Doc looked up from his work and said. ‘Not that stupid Prince again?’
‘Nah, it was the wicked Queen,’ said Grumpy. ‘Asked about Snow White.’
‘What!’ shouted Doc and Dopey, Bashful, Sneezy and Happy whose name really is Gaye, honest it is!
Sleepy, laying on his belly in the kitchen, farted and went back to sleep again.
Suddenly, from the direction of the tomb there came a mighty yell. It was a mixture of fear, lust and sheer exuberance. The Vertically Challenged Persons rushed outside including Sleepy who hated to be left out of things. They stood in a line, all seven, dressed in a weird assortment of clothing and watched open mouthed as the Queen, screaming hysterically, her legs pumping like pistons, raced across their yard into the trees.
The Prince, gaining on her, raced behind with his hands outstretched, fingers twitching in eager anticipation, crying out.
‘Come back darling! I love you!’
‘Silly bugger,’ said Grumpy.
‘How sweet,’ said Bashful and surreptitiously adjusted his black lace negligee`.
‘Pathetic,’ said Doc.
‘And I fancied him myself,’ said Happy whose name really was Gaye.
‘I like a good love story,’ said Dopey, happily eying the tomb.
‘Achoo,’ said Sneezy. ‘Shetz ob by hay feber.’
Sleepy, leaning against the door jamb snoozing, quietly farted.