The Princess and the Pea: A Pea’s Point of View
Twisted from The Princess and the Pea
Day 14 of utter torment. Another day of abuse. I was released from the freezer to be flicked unceremoniously onto a vast and incredibly comfortable bed. This was fine by me, but the girl in the room? Well, she was something else. In case you’re wondering, yes, your derriere does look enormous in that nightdress. Incredibly rude, I thought; letting another stranger in, unannounced. So just as I was beginning to feel quite happy with my huge bed all to myself, an enormous mattress was deposited on top of me, engulfing me in darkness. Several more shakes of the bed followed this first one and I would assume that they were due to more mattresses being loaded above. I sighed resignedly; I already knew that this was going to be another long night to endure.
Well, that was one big woman. I hope you are aware that it isn’t just your nightdress making you look that size; you really do have a voluminous rear end. Fortunately, I was returned to my safe haven, so I immersed myself in a cooling ice bath for the remainder of the day to rest in undisturbed peace. That was until the sounds of torrential rain reached my small but sensitive ears. Windows rattled, doors shook and slammed, and my icebox was wrenched uncouthly open. Here we go again. This was different, however. I’d love to say that this girl was as light as a feather and hadn’t eaten all the pies but that would be a lie. She was misleadingly slim and of acceptable physique, but boy was she just as heavy as the last 14 hefty women. She sank just as ungraciously onto the now seemingly ridiculously oversized accommodation
and settled herself down for her “beauty” sleep. Honey, you need it. Unfortunately, it didn’t really make much of a difference in terms of weight; as the night wore on she only succeeded in growing steadily heavier.
The following morning, Colossal Rear End had the audacity to remark on how uncomfortable her night had been. Her night. What about mine? She should try being a pea for once. She didn’t have someone with a weight that doubtless broke the scales tossing and turning all night long right above her. But did she see me complaining? No.
The most insulting thing was that they all tried to pin the blame on me. I mean really? Why do I have to be the bad guy? I didn’t do anything, I just sat there quietly, not disturbing anyone. Nonetheless, that witch of a woman who condemned me to my bed of Procrustes brought me out as the sole culprit in the matter. Not only this, but in my opinion, I didn’t even get a fair trial. We’re supposed do the whole speech thing, aren’t we? Plead your case? Testify? Well, I didn’t even get that. Accusing eyes turned stonily toward me and they regarded me with mixed expressions as I sat there, silent, innocent until proven guilty.
Before I could make my move, the old one lunged toward me, pinched me between her gnarled fingers, and tossed me into the now foreboding freezer along with my silent acquaintances. Time passed quickly and before I knew it we were being scooped up all together. I had to think quickly; there wasn’t much time. The pot loomed, ever closer, and without a second thought I rolled away from my comrades and tipped slowly over the edge. Hard, cold stone rushed up at an alarming pace toward me. The momentum was too much; I hit the ground and continued rolling, down the step—bump—through the next room—smack—straight out the door and down three more steps—bang, crash, wallop. Finally, after excruciating pain, after Hell froze over, after the sun crashed down into the Pacific, etc., I came to an ungraceful stop. I checked myself over for breaks; none, thank goodness, except for a small slice on my right—or left depending on which way I thought about it (hard to tell when you’re a sphere). Relief was short and sweet, however, as the dulcet tones of an overexcited dog bounded up to meet me as an enormous thing approached. Ah. Right. I guess I should have probably thought things through a little, but I didn’t, which was why I was here and why things were rapidly going south.
So that’s how I find myself here, with my short life flashing before my eyes. I gulp; this is it: the last stand, the final reckoning, the calm before the storm, the beginning of the end, the—well you get the idea. So you see, not all fairy tales end with happily ever after, at least not if you aren’t the prince or the princess or whoever is on the cover of the book, but just think next time what it’s like from the bad guy’s point of view. From a pea’s point of view.