The Prince(ss) and the Pee: Part One

long time ago, in a kingdom far, far away-

Oh, enough of the Star Wars crap - It won't make it any more interesting.

Yes. It's bad enough you couldn't get off your lazy arse and write this for Hallowe'en.

I had (and still have) Man Flu™!

That's as may be, but we all know Man Flu™ doesn't affect Gayers to the same degree as Breeder Men.

Yeah. Just get on with it.

Oh, be quiet!

* ahem *


ot so long ago - last night, in fact - a castle's kitchen was alive with bustle and swearing.

"Oh, forfucksakes! Get out there with that" the exasperated head chef hissed at the hapless waiter while pointing at a tray of complicated looking hors d'oeuvre.

"Yes, chef" mumbled the waiter.

"And you" the chef blasted, turning to face the flinching kitchen boy. "I want this place spotless when I come down to do dinner. I can feel one of my heads coming on, so you'll have to manage without me for an hour or so."

"Yes, chef."

"Don't fuck things up."

"Yes, chef" they both answered, trying not to cower too much.

When the highly strung and increasingly venomous chef had stormed out, they both sagged and turned to each other.

"Monsieur Queynte's in a right strop tonight. Did you break more dishes doing the washing up this morning, Beast?" the waiter accused.

"No!" the kitchen boy replied indignantly. "I thought you must've dropped yet another breakfast tray, Mr Frobisher?"

The two men glowered at each other through narrowed eyes before Frobisher flounced off with the hors d'oeuvre tray and Beast turned away with a sigh wondering where to begin in the untidy kitchen.

~ ~ ~

In the castle's grand ballroom, the fancy dress ball was in full swing. The guests were mingling, each dressed up according to their interpretation of the calendar theme. They made their way elegantly around the opulant ballroom, gliding from one group of gossiping party-goers to another, from the magnificent buffet tables to the dancefloor, and then on to the raised dais at the far end of the room to parade themselves before the royal family.
The crown prince, Eros, was surrounded by a gaggle of giggling girls. Not surprising really considering his costume. Or lack thereof. His fancy-dress consisted of a tiny pair of strawberry icecream-pink trunks and lashings of cream, chocolate sauce and icecream melting quickly over his tanned, muscular body.
At the other end of the room, the Willow Fairy, dressed as Wednesday Addams, and the court artist, dressed somewhat strangely, were talking.

"These hors d'oeuvres are quite delightful, don't you think?" the artist asked her companion.

"Um... Yes" was the somewhat distracted reply. "They're very... um... exotic. Look. I've been meaning to ask since you got here: Why are you dressed as a giant poo?"

The Poo coughed in shock. "I'm not a poo! I'm a date" she said, aghast. "You think I'm a poo?"

"Well... Yes."

"Oh my gods." The Date, nee Poo, was horrified. "Everyone else must think I'm a poo, too."

"I'm sure not everyone thinks that..." the Willow Fairy said attempting to console her. "Some might think you're a... a..." But before she could come up with a less insulting idea, the french doors behind them were flung open revealing a very handsome, but almost naked young man with a look of confused desperation in his eyes.

"Someone didn't get the revised invitation" the Willow Fairy whispered to the newly revealed Date before turning back to the, frankly stunning, man before them. Both pairs of eyes lowered involuntarily to the... Handkerchief, that was all that prevented the man from being indecent.

"The Greek Gods theme was cancelled" the Date said to him after she managed to look him in the face.

The man looked wildly around the room, then back at the Date. "Are you dressed as a poo?" he asked in confusion.

The Willow Fairy burst into peals of laughter as the Date sulked and the 'Greek God' disappeared into the crowded ballroom.




To be continued...