Disenchanted (2 page)

Birds took flight as the mirror
fractured beneath my
unqueenly
tirade. I'm not proud
of that, but I grew up around huntsmen and picked up some choice words. Never
send a man to do woman's work. I'd have to dispatch her myself. Men. Can't
cook, can't discipline children, can't kill Glow Bright. I bet that brazen
hussy seduced my huntsman so he wouldn't kill her. I've seen her, singing out
the window, conveniently forgetting she's wearing that low slung corset that
squeezes the bosom so tightly you're just waiting for them to pop out the top
like two bars of soap.

Queens don't take betrayal well.
We're notorious for overreacting and demanding traitors' heads. Some put them
on pikes as lessons to other would-be traitors. I'm more restrained than that.
But I did have the huntsman shot. Not killed, just wounded. I say not killed,
but that depends how long it takes someone to find him. I'm not heartless. I
left a map. Somewhere. He had to be taught a lesson. You let one get away with
scuppering your murder plot and they're all at it. I was sad to lose him. It
will take ages to find someone as gorgeous as him.

An idea formed in my head. Ok, it
wasn't the cleverest plan, but I needed to kill her without it looking like
murder. Chopping off her head and burning the remains so she couldn't return to
life was effective but would raise tricky questions. No way was I going to rot
in a cell for ridding the world of little miss tiny
tushy
.
Looking back, acting under the influence of rage wasn't a good idea. Revenge is
a dish best served cold. I should remember that.

Using my magic, I transformed
myself into a gypsy woman. I know, unglamorous, but we queens must suffer for
our goals. I collected brightly coloured laces and set off for the woods where
Snow Fright was living with seven dwarves. Is there anything odder than seven
blokes living in a cottage deep in the woods? I dread to think what they're
getting up to. If you or me stumbled across this cosy cottage, would they offer
to take us in if we cooked and cleaned for them? Yeah, right! They'd stick us
in French Maid outfits and have us doing all sorts of unmentionable things. But
not Snow White, oh no. If I dropped her from a great height she'd land on her
feet and not even twist her ankle, while the rest of us would be pea soup on
the inside.

Anyway, off I set, found that
suspicious little cottage and knocked on the door. Madam herself opened it. No
French Maid's outfit. I restrained myself from slapping her pretty little face
and held out my tray of laces.

"Would you like to buy some
laces
, pretty girl?"

"Yeah alright. I'll have the
red ones." She sniffed. "They'd better be cheap, or I'm not
buying." She looked me up and down. "Never heard of washing?"

I should wash your mouth out with bleach and a scouring sponge, Fungus
Face
. Smiling, I offered to lace her corset for her. Who was she trying to
impress? Her seven bonk buddies? Gullible cow agreed so I laced her corset and
yanked the laces really tight, imagining I was wrapping them around her
wrinkle-free throat.

"Don't put your grubby mitts
on my dress," she told me. "It's dry-clean only."

"
Gotta
do it tight, love, or your fat will bulge." I put my foot on her back for
extra leverage. She gasped then collapsed as the laces cut off her oxygen. I
stared at her lifeless form, flexing my fingers. I hoped that wasn't arthritis
setting in. "Let's see how pretty you are when your face turns blue. So
long, Snow Shite."

I danced back to the castle,
cackling with glee. Ok, so maybe I
have
cackled. Once. But this was a special occasion. Maybe a life as a career
criminal was beckoning. I could be an assassin when I got bored of queenly
duties. Killer Queen has a nice ring. I could make up business cards. Vista
Print had a sale on.

The next day, I woke feeling full
of the joys of murder, addressed my mirror and asked,

"Mirror, mirror on the wall,
who's the fairest of them all?"

"Well it's not you,
love," the treacherous mirror responded. "Snow White's still the
fairest."

"You're telling me a
corpse
looks better than me?"

"Those weird little men cut
the laces and revived her."

"
Bastards
! Oh she's for it this time. I'm
gonna
terminate her contract with the living once and for all. Not only is she pretty
and adored, she's
freakin
' immortal! God I hate
her!"

I took my best comb and dipped it
in a special solution I called Sayonara Snow White. I stormed off to the woods,
transforming into a chubby countrywoman. The things I do for murder. So degrading.
I knocked on the door but this time she didn't open it.

"Hey sweet cheeks, I've got
this pretty comb to show you. It'll look stunning in your hair. Really impress
your boyfriend."
Though you've got
seven, you tart
.

"Bog off. Last time I opened
the door I nearly died."

Nearly only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades
. "It's a
comb, love, not a
home made
bomb. Just try it, see
what you think. I'll give you a fifty per cent discount. You want to be pretty,
don't you?"

"I'm a ten and most of the
men in the kingdom are after my hand. I just have to unlace the top eyelet of
my corset and they'll do anything I ask. I doubt a comb will improve me."

"Not even one covered in the
finest jewels?"

I waved the comb back and forth. Naturally
that money grabbing wretch couldn't resist and hurried outside.

"Hand it over then."
She looked me up and down, contempt contorting her face. She looked like a
gargoyle sucking a lemon.

I stabbed the comb into her
luscious silky hair, grinning that I'd fooled her again. I'm surprised she's
not starring in a shampoo advert, paid to flick her hair around, making the
rest of us feel inferior because we've got split ends and roots showing.

Snow White collapsed as the
poison seeped through her body. Terrible immune system. That's what you get
when you don't do any dirty work. Helpless with laughter, I slapped my thighs.
Fell for it again. I ran home, sniggering whenever I thought about it. The
scrumptious Will kept asking what was so funny, but of course, I couldn't tell
him. He wouldn't find the idea of his poisoned daughter as funny as I did.

With Snow White out of the
castle, he was more, let's say, attentive to me. We didn't have to worry about
waking her. We even tried positions from my special book. Though I nearly put
my back out with the Wheelbarrow. Her death was best for everyone. I told him
I'd arranged for her to do work experience, help her gain life skills. He loved
it. I even faked letters to him from her. I'm so bad. (He loves it when I'm a
bad girl, as he proved by our
spankathon
last night.)

The next morning, I donned my
sexiest lingerie and shimmied over to the mirror before asking it
that
question.

"Still Snow White."

"
What
?!"

"The dwarves saved her
again."

"For the love of murder!
Those bloody dwarves! They're
ruining
my plans! I should kill them as well!"

"Why not quit before you're
discovered?"

"I won't quit 'til she's six
feet under. She won't look so pretty when she's rotting in the ground where
only
worms
will appreciate her."

I fetched my spell book. This one
couldn't fail. I could've taken a gun and shot out her pretty face, but that
would leave evidence. As she branded me a witch, it seemed fitting to use magic
to end her charmed existence. I'm fond of ironic punishments.

"Eureka! A poisoned apple!
It's so simple and yet so devious. Little miss 'I never put on weight' will be
watching her figure with seven men to keep happy. An apple a day helps her
cook, clean and play."

I slammed my spell book shut,
making
Mr.
Darcy jump. He shot me a filthy look then
stretched and fell asleep. Cats have it so easy. If only I'd taken the time to
train him into becoming my own personal assassin, but you know cats. Won't be
taught anything. I transformed myself into a fat farmer's wife and filled a
basket with apples, placing my poisoned apple on top. I set off for the forest,
whistling a merry tune.

I sang a taunting song as I
skipped through the woods. Not many women my age can skip gracefully. I'm just
not appreciated. Well, Will appreciates my grace, flexibility and magic touch,
but that's another story for the late night edition. I rapped on the cottage
door, humming.

Snow White leaned out the window,
her bouncing bosom reminding me of its superiority.

"Put the girls away! You're
blocking out the sun!"

"I'm not allowed out."

"Are you so hideous people
will curl up and die if they see you?"

"It's for my own good."

"They're trying to control
you, sweetheart. How 'bout I just pass you some apples, you can make them a
sweet apple pie."

"Fine but they can make
their own damn pie." She scowled. Silly girl. I passed her some apples
then held out the poisoned one.

"This one's for you, my
dear. You're looking peaky. Skinny little wraith aren't you? You need meat on
your bones, girl."
Nice, juicy meat
for the wildlife to feed on when you've returned to the earth
.

"You need
less
meat on
your
bones."

She took the apple and bit it.
She crumpled to the floor. I burst into raucous laughter. Beauty, no brains. I
checked to make sure she really was dead. She was. That was a relief. I
would've hated to stave her head in with a frying pan. I don't have much upper
body strength. Not even her precious dwarves could save her now.

I returned to the castle and
hunted for Will. This needed celebrating. He was appreciating my seventeen inch
waist, even if nobody else was. We spent most of that week in bed. The world
was definitely a better place without Snow Blight. He often asked why his
darling daughter hadn't come to visit him. I wrote a letter from her, claiming
she'd been promoted to being a Lady's personal assistant and couldn't take time
off, but was hoping to visit in the summer. This pacified him for a while. Even
when she was dead, she was still making my life awkward.

Ten days passed since Snow
White's tragic demise. I faced my mirror.

"How do I look this morning?
Glowing? Ravishing? Queen of people's hearts?" The mirror didn't answer. I
sighed. He could be so insufferable. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's
the fairest of them all?" I struck a pouting pose.

"Snow White."

"She's
dead
!" I hissed. "Formaldehyde isn't a recognised beauty
treatment!"

"Snow White's alive."

"A zombie can't be more
beautiful than me. She eats
brains
for heaven sake! She smells like dead people."

"The dwarves put her in a
glass coffin."

"Were they planning on
studying her rotting process, mark each stage on the calendar?"

"A prince rode past and fell
in love with her."

"There's a word for people
like him. Why isn't he in jail?"

"He took her back to his
castle."

"What was he planning on
doing with her corpse? Stuff it and sit it on the settee so they can watch
X Factor
together? Can't get a breathing
girlfriend, huh?"

"The dwarves agreed. As they
moved her, a piece of apple fell out and she woke up. They're due to be
married. She will make a beautiful bride."

"The apple piece dislodges
and she
miraculously
wakes from
death
? No-one wakes from death unless
they're the un-dead! Her organs will have shut down! Her brain's been starved
of the oxygen that makes up ninety
percent
of it!
She'll be partially decomposed! This isn't
possible
!
I bet no-one's calling
her
a witch,
salivating at the thought of burning
her
at the stake."

I threw back my head and screamed
at the top of my voice. Even when she was
dead
,
people fell in love with her!
How
?
What did she have that I didn't? I was alive! Even the natural rotting process
didn't touch this stain on mankind. I smashed the mocking mirror. Daddy's
little princess was marrying a
freakin
' prince! A
prince just
happened
to be walking
through the woods. Why couldn't it have been a bear?

Now, in Snow White's version of
this story, I become so enraged I turn to dust. What am I? A vampire? We've
already established that lying little troglodyte can't be trusted.

This time, the letter Will
received from Toad Features was genuine, outlining her plans to marry this
corpse fancier. I heard through the castle gossips the wedding was going to be
the biggest event ever. Little miss perky tits has already upstaged me in the
beauty stakes and had Daddy wrapped around her nasty little finger, no way was
I going to let her wedding upstage my wedding. I had a jewel encrusted wedding
cake. Beautiful to look at and it broke some guests' teeth. Such a fun day.
Anyway, according to the gossips, the handsome prince (they're never ugly
leches
with piggy eyes, bad skin, halitosis and
snaggle
teeth) was busy organising the wedding for his
precious princess. So busy he needed extra help. I smiled as I stroked
Mr.
Darcy. I had a plan of action and cold blood. This
time, it wouldn't fail.

***

I knocked on the
Nec
Romancer's castle door in my latest disguise – super
chic fashion designer. Complete with stylish glasses, the latest hairstyle and
arse implants. The door was opened by a handsome butler. I told him why I was
there and he led me straight in. No frisking, no demanding to see ID. Castles
these days, so lax with their security. I wouldn't have minded being frisked by
that butler. He looked like he knew how to polish my valuables.