The Casanova of the fairy tale world gets his due.
Prince Charming, the Casanova of the fairy tale world, the Don Juan of love ‘em and leave ‘em; Prince ‘bloody’ Charming with his dashing good looks, piercing blue eyes, blonde hair, perfect teeth, a million dollar smile, dimple chin, and seductive voice that rolls off the tongue like a silk handkerchief. And as usual the stories only ever paint half the picture - Prince Charming riding on his magnificent white steed, swooping in to rescue the princess with a kiss and then riding off into the sunset to live happily ever after. What a crock.
And I should know, for he is my father and there is nothing charming about him. He is a deviant womaniser created by the Dreamer and sent out into the mortal world to seduce women and create the children of the dreamer, half-breeds, a mixture of human and fairy tale beings. For what purpose is unknown - but from my experience the Dreamer has no good intentions. When I found out about my true heritage and what this abomination had done to my mother so much became clear - the reason I came into contact with the Stranger - why I joined his quest to hunt down the minions of the Dreamer with the ultimate goal of reaching that deity. My childhood was not a good one, my mother had many problems, mostly of a mental nature and I will not go into them in detail for that is not what these chronicles are about, suffice to say though, her problems began with her liaison with Charming. And now I was on my way to seek revenge and obtain justice for what was done to her and no doubt to countless others.
The Stranger and I had received the details of how to find Charming from the vile creature, Humpty Dumpty. And it will not be easy to get to him. To do so we will have to go through Miss Muffet - yes the same one from the fairy tale who sat on her tuffet eating her curds and whey - but she is known by another name, Madame Muffet, who runs the high end call service “Fantasy Tales”; where for the right price you can have a dalliance with Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, or even the Wicked Witch, if that was your thing. And of course Prince Charming, the greatest gigolo to ever step out of the pages of a nursery rhyme.
“He’s very expensive,” the prim and proper voice of Miss Muffet told me as I stood in the reception of “Fantasy Tales”. “He’s one of our most popular fantasies, you know.”
“Yes,” I replied, “but I was told that he is the best at what he does and that’s what I want - what I need - a fantasy tale of my own.” As I spoke the words I almost choked on them. But we had to get him to come out to play and so I swallowed the words I truly wanted to say and kept up the charade.
“Well, I think we can arrange what you need,” Miss Muffet almost drools. She was a most unpleasant person; there is a seediness to her that belies her perky and warm nature. Like a snake hiding in the under growth waiting to strike. The actual offices of “Fantasy Tales” was nothing out of the ordinary, in fact it’s located in a high rise building on a floor surrounded by modelling agencies. If you didn’t know what it was you would just assume that it’s just another agency like all the rest.
“Now then, how about I show you all of our fantasies first, shall I.”
“No, that’s alright, I really want Prince Charming.”
“Tish tosh, who knows what you might like.” And before I knew it I was seated in a chair, with a cup of tea, going through the portfolio of “Fantasy Tales” roster of fairy tales for hire. It was a thick dossier with mug shots and provocative poses from Little Red Riding Hood to Jack Frost. She really tried to push the Huntsman on me, telling me how strong he was, and that for just a few thousand dollars more she would also throw in the Evil Queen. Miss Muffet was like a slick used car salesman - where was a spider when you needed one. But in the end, after much haggling, and refusing the special price she offered for Pinocchio, we finally settled on what I came for - Prince Charming.
“I’ll have him at your hotel around nine tonight, if that’s okay.”
“That’ll be fine.”
“You can pay when he arrives,” Miss Muffet assures me, “I’m sure you’ll be well serviced.” I couldn’t get out of that place quick enough. As soon as I reached my suite at the hotel I jumped in the shower for twenty minutes having the urge to thoroughly wash myself for some reason.
Later, after dinner, the Stranger and I went over our plan. When Prince Charming arrives, he will take care of the bodyguards while I keep him occupied, then together we would take Casanova out and give the Dreamer a devastating blow. But all I could think about was justice for what had been done to my mother.
As nine o clock rolled around, we waited, the Stranger, hiding around the corner outside the room, and me inside. It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” I asked nervously.
“The prince of your fantasies,” came a smooth voice in reply from out in the hallway. I gathered my will and opened the door.
Copyright Peter Jessop © August 2014
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always fun reads these
Ron