Here it is! The final installment of the Looking Glass story is finished! Please enjoy!
Oh, also, before I forget again. The Dearietta fanfic sequel is in the works. Just so that you know I haven’t forgotten about it. Have a mauvelous day!
Maiden Without Hands: Hello guys! How is everyone today? Doing okay?
Thumbelina: Obviously we aren’t okay. We’re here in the first place. And, why do they call you the “maiden without hands” anyway? I mean, you obviously have hands.
Maiden: Yes, well, that is all part of my story. Long ago, there was a young maiden whose father made a deal with a wizard. The wizard gave him riches and the father gave the wizard his daughter. At least, that was supposed to happen. The maiden was resourceful and she purified herself so that the wizard could not take her, but he ordered that her hands be cut off so that he could claim her as her own. Her father did the deed, but she was still too pure for the wizard so he left her to her fate. She knew that she was a freak, so she left town to find someone to love her. She found a king, who had silver hands made for her and married her. Unfortunately, he had to go to battle before he could see his first son born, so his mother sent word that his handless wife had a beautiful baby boy. The messenger who took the note to the king was a lazy, ungrateful servant, so he fell asleep on each of his journeys, allowing the wizard to claim the child was a changeling and that his father wanted the baby and the mother killed. The wife fled with her son to a place where she stayed for seven years, and her hands were allowed to grow anew. When her husband found her, he took her back to the castle lovingly for he now knew that the son was a regular boy and the woman a regular woman with two natural hands.
Princess: Well that’s not such a bad story! You get a happily ever after that the rest of us can only strive for, and yet you come to group therapy?
Maiden: (holds her breath and then suddenly heaves a great sob) He only loves me for my hands! When I didn’t have hands, he pitied me, but he didn’t ever love me! If I had never re-grown my hands, he might have killed me sooner or later. He even flirted with me before he knew I was his wife, at the cottage. How many other girls did he flirt with while he was in battle? Did he dread coming back to find me? Oh, I’m a wreck!
Rumplestiltskin: You think? Maybe you should have gone to marriage counseling instead! (he cackles suddenly and loudly and everyone is silent while his laugh slowly fades back to the quiet laughing he’s been doing since the scene started)
Mirror: Um, Rumplestiltskin? It’s your turn.
Rumplestiltskin: Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. My name is no longer Rumplestiltskin. That was a bad name. Yes, very bad; very very very very very bad. No I do not like that name. I have no name, for then, no one can know it! (He subsides into another fit of laughter, The MIRROR gives him “a look” and he calms down) Once there was a little girl who was forced by the King to spin very much straw into gold. She was a simple girl and clueless too, so she gave Rumplestiltskin all of the precious things she owned for him to do it for her. Yes, he knew very well and he helped her a very much. He requested that she give him her first child once she ran out of riches and she agreed, so he came to take the baby when it was born, it would have made a lovely stew, but the girl had such a hissy fit that clever Rumplestiltskin told her she could keep the baby if she could guess his name. She guessed every name in the kingdom, but they were all wrong. When old Rumplestiltsken was celebrating his victory, he sung his name aloud so that a servant heard him and carried it to the girl. She even pronounced it right! So poor Rumplestiltskin never got his child stew (eyes GRETEL).
Princess: How touching. My story involves actual pain. Real pain, not the kind you sissies are all whining about(general noises of dissent). In a kingdom not too far from here, there was a picky prince who absolutely couldn’t find a perfect bride. He looked at every princess, but none of them were real princesses. Then, one stormy night, a princess came to the castle soaking wet and no one believed she’d be a real princess, but they gave her a test none the less. They gave her twenty of the world’s softest mattresses to sleep on as well as twenty quilts, but they put a pea under them all. The poor thing was kept awake all night by that wretched pea. But she was a real princess, and she’d been to princess boot camp. She knew how to ignore the pain and use it to her advantage. Heck, I still have back problems, but do I whine about it? No. They put the horrid thing in the royal museum because it was the mark of my princessness but have I tried to break into the museum and mash it to a pulp using the Queen’s wheelchair? Only once! You need to be resilient, ladies! No one can be a princess without being tough. You are all just a load of wussies compared to me.
Mirror: Thank you for sharing. I’m sure it feels great to get that off your chest!
Princess: Actually, it didn’t. I cannot be a real princess without pain. I’d be just like old Rapunzel. (at this, a roar of dissent erupts from the crowd. A fist fight breaks out and everyone is out of their chairs wildly attacking one another)
Duck: Hey! Listen up! I haven’t gotten to tell my story yet! I’m tired of being overshadowed! I mean, my little brother was born the ugliest thing and now he’s so pretty that my mother doesn’t even think about me anymore! My brother’s not even my brother. He’s a swan and the rest of us are all ducks. Someone just dropped him off on our doorstep and we raised him in the cupboard under the stairs. And I’m not as good as him at sports, so my dad doesn’t love me as much either. And my girlfriend broke up with me for him. And all of my friends decided I wasn’t popular enough anymore so they all left to hang out with him. And my great uncle Charlie just re-wrote his will so that I only get his spare toothbrush stash but my brother gets his mansion. Hey! Listen to me! (no one acknowledges that they’ve heard him) Mirror! Make them listen to me!
Mirror: You know what? Maybe I have problems too! Maybe I’d like someone to ask me how I’m feeling once in a while instead of “Who’s prettiest?” and “Who’s best?” Do you know how much pressure I’m under on a daily basis? I’m not allowed to lie, but people always ask questions they don’t want to hear the answer to, so guess who gets blamed? Me, that’s who. (nobody has stopped fighting now and they are not listening to the mirror) I’d like to get up and punch every one of you in the face right now, but I’m just a mirror and I can’t do anything to you!
Red’s Mom: (adding much more hand sanitizer) Maybe we should all just end this so we can go home and worry about ourselves and no one else?
Mirror: Okay! Everyone repeat after me: Therapy is pointless for fictional characters.
All: Therapy is pointless for fictional characters.
Mirror: And being in a Fairy tale is not all it’s cracked up to be.
All: And being in a fairy tale is not all it’s cracked up to be.