Bad Rap
Once upon a time, there was a princess, but she wasn’t just an ordinary princess, she was the most beautiful princess in the whole wide world. There was also a very handsome prince, who loved the princess. One day, an evil old witch put a spell on the princess, and she fell asleep, but the prince came just in time, defeated the old ugly witch, and rescued the princess with a magic kiss that woke her up and they lived happily ever after. The End.
Yea, right. That’s how the stories always go. There’s always some fancy moral about being a good person, and how you shouldn’t trust just anyone. Uh-huh. Got it, no trust good people. What is this, the Dark Ages? Today’s fairy tales don’t always end the way you want them to, no matter how handsome the prince or just how rich he is. But no one ever cares about the poor old witch that’s getting such a bad rap because this one super great princess has no visible faults whatsoever.
What about that unfortunate Lady Tremaine in Cinderella who had to raise an ungrateful little stepchild all by herself with two of her own ungrateful children always fighting? I mean, the poor woman had just lost the love of her life. She was heartbroken and distressed. Who wouldn’t want to hide a dirty little child away from the eyes of a prince? It’s an embarrassment.
Don’t forget the poor old woman in Hansel and Gretel, who was just trying to help two little lost kids who were unappreciative enough to try to eat her candy house! She feeds them, and takes care of them while they’re waiting for their father, and they turn around and push her in a hot oven while she’s trying to cook them dinner.
My story is like that. My name is Maleficent. Of course, if you like Disney, you just sneered, because you know who I am. Oh, I’m such a monster. Truth is, that bastard king had such a pretty little girl because me. Her mother prayed and prayed for a child, so what’s a little spell between friends? I granted her such a wonderful favor, and really asked for nothing in return, but what did she do? She went and told her husband. Great, get the man of the house involved. He got so mad that he refused to let me talk to his wife anymore. I mean, who was Stephan to say that she couldn’t talk to me anymore? She was a Queen. So what if he was a King? She still had plenty of power in her own right. Come on, if I wouldn’t have helped he wouldn’t have had that beautiful child. He would have died and the spoiled brat who was in line for the throne in the next kingdom would have taken over and ruined the whole town, not to mention probably married the Princess. Who in their right mind would wish a whiney baby on such a sweet-tempered person? Of course, I had to do something. I felt like a fairy godmother to the child . . . or something like that.
When the child was born, that ungrateful monkey on the throne didn’t even invite me to her christening. Instead, he betrothed her to the little weasel in the next kingdom anyway. Now, I’m not usually one to crash such a happy party. I know people don’t naturally think of me as a wonderful person. But I HELPED with the child; for him not to invite me was just plain rude. He made it a matter of pride. SO, I showed up and put a curse on the girl to save her. I told them that she would prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die before her sixteenth birthday. I needed to frighten them, but I never intended to actually complete the curse. I scared them and then did the cool puffy disappearing act, and that dim-witted little good fairy that I interrupted cursed the child. You know the story from there.
King Stephan burnt every wheel he could find, which, I might add, ended any hopes of a textile industry in his kingdom, but the fool forgot to look in his own castle. So on her birthday, I ran the wheel and she pricked her finger and passed out. To help, the little fairies that actually put the curse on her in the first place put the whole castle to sleep, but stupidly forgot to guard it, so I did. I had to make sure that not just any handsome prince rescued my adopted baby. Do you know how long I had to wait at that dark, wet castle before an even decent guy showed up to try to defeat me? It wasn’t fun, trust me. So, yea, he defeated ‘the monster,’ rescued the princess, and saved the kingdom. I only had to wait like a hundred years for him. Yea, great happy ending . . . They lived happily ever after . . . but who did all the work? Geez, I get no credit.
Yea, right. That’s how the stories always go. There’s always some fancy moral about being a good person, and how you shouldn’t trust just anyone. Uh-huh. Got it, no trust good people. What is this, the Dark Ages? Today’s fairy tales don’t always end the way you want them to, no matter how handsome the prince or just how rich he is. But no one ever cares about the poor old witch that’s getting such a bad rap because this one super great princess has no visible faults whatsoever.
What about that unfortunate Lady Tremaine in Cinderella who had to raise an ungrateful little stepchild all by herself with two of her own ungrateful children always fighting? I mean, the poor woman had just lost the love of her life. She was heartbroken and distressed. Who wouldn’t want to hide a dirty little child away from the eyes of a prince? It’s an embarrassment.
Don’t forget the poor old woman in Hansel and Gretel, who was just trying to help two little lost kids who were unappreciative enough to try to eat her candy house! She feeds them, and takes care of them while they’re waiting for their father, and they turn around and push her in a hot oven while she’s trying to cook them dinner.
My story is like that. My name is Maleficent. Of course, if you like Disney, you just sneered, because you know who I am. Oh, I’m such a monster. Truth is, that bastard king had such a pretty little girl because me. Her mother prayed and prayed for a child, so what’s a little spell between friends? I granted her such a wonderful favor, and really asked for nothing in return, but what did she do? She went and told her husband. Great, get the man of the house involved. He got so mad that he refused to let me talk to his wife anymore. I mean, who was Stephan to say that she couldn’t talk to me anymore? She was a Queen. So what if he was a King? She still had plenty of power in her own right. Come on, if I wouldn’t have helped he wouldn’t have had that beautiful child. He would have died and the spoiled brat who was in line for the throne in the next kingdom would have taken over and ruined the whole town, not to mention probably married the Princess. Who in their right mind would wish a whiney baby on such a sweet-tempered person? Of course, I had to do something. I felt like a fairy godmother to the child . . . or something like that.
When the child was born, that ungrateful monkey on the throne didn’t even invite me to her christening. Instead, he betrothed her to the little weasel in the next kingdom anyway. Now, I’m not usually one to crash such a happy party. I know people don’t naturally think of me as a wonderful person. But I HELPED with the child; for him not to invite me was just plain rude. He made it a matter of pride. SO, I showed up and put a curse on the girl to save her. I told them that she would prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die before her sixteenth birthday. I needed to frighten them, but I never intended to actually complete the curse. I scared them and then did the cool puffy disappearing act, and that dim-witted little good fairy that I interrupted cursed the child. You know the story from there.
King Stephan burnt every wheel he could find, which, I might add, ended any hopes of a textile industry in his kingdom, but the fool forgot to look in his own castle. So on her birthday, I ran the wheel and she pricked her finger and passed out. To help, the little fairies that actually put the curse on her in the first place put the whole castle to sleep, but stupidly forgot to guard it, so I did. I had to make sure that not just any handsome prince rescued my adopted baby. Do you know how long I had to wait at that dark, wet castle before an even decent guy showed up to try to defeat me? It wasn’t fun, trust me. So, yea, he defeated ‘the monster,’ rescued the princess, and saved the kingdom. I only had to wait like a hundred years for him. Yea, great happy ending . . . They lived happily ever after . . . but who did all the work? Geez, I get no credit.
posted by weyrdkat | 8:57 PM
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