Glamorous Revolution

Queen Revi has to die. This I know for certain.

The second she stole the throne Hagavale was doomed; instead of beautiful brick refugee aid centers and warm diners lining the main stretch, grand crystal obelisks tower over the cobbled street. As per a royal decree, manufacturers must turn away from their family businesses and focus on smelting enchanting jewel ornamentations so intricately etched and designed so the ugly residents would look more appealing on television.

According to Revi, Hagavale was nothing but a hovel for ingenuous savages pent on vomiting putrid bile on the regal Glinspour Expanse, and in her words: “The black strike that is Hagavale will be washed anew in the dawn of the Jewel Age.”

How would embedding blocks of peridot into the roads and inserting opal pillars in Hagavale square make us savages any less brutish? And what about those water purifying stations that provide us with clean water being replaced with pearl chardonnay fountains? How will our youth grow strong and healthy if every meal consists of a glass of wine and a mini sparkle cupcake that they’re made to eat with a fork and knife?

Let me reiterate: she really needs to die.

Feel free to put arsenic in her bedazzled ham during the Glinspourian Ball, bomb the palace, shoot her with a poisoned dart – hell, you can even stab the witch. I would do it myself, but my name’s already on the watch list for recommending beige over bubble gum pink for the interior of the capitol.

You have to act fast, though; rumor has it that she’ll be making us all get mani-pedis and facelifts next week. I wouldn’t be surprised if soon we’ll have to change our names to the imaginative Brittany or David.

To those who still value hard work and steak and potatoes, and wave the magnificently greasy flag of democracy: please save us. I can’t handle another cream-filled sparkle cupcake.

Tower of Missed Opportunity

Blue and white porcelain horses dance in the candy cotton field surrounding the jellybean tower. Strips of raspberry licorice drift in the air, streamers and ribbon for the grand appearance of crisp, morning sunshine. In the distance chirps a gentle flock of bubblegull, excited for the flurry of cocoa flies enticed by the soft, amber sap in the butterscotch grove. The air smells of warm cinnamon and strawberry frosting.

A girl of sixteen rises from a sparkling blue cushion in the jellybean tower and gazes upon the candy cotton expanse, her rich caramel hair pulled back in a tight bun. “Oh, Barnard, it’s such a beautiful morning; you’re not seriously going to waste it in here with me, are you?” she asks the yellow woven scarf.

Words emanate from the immaculate, blonde garment. “Well, my dear, in this weather I’m afraid everybody would mind a thick fellow such as myself snug around their neck. Besides, if I did latch myself around a young lass’s collar, how do you reckon I return to you, darling?” Barnard’s braided, silver fringes revel in the cool breeze.

The girl smirks. “Oh, we have a way. Someone might as well take advantage of my curse.”

“Don’t you fret, my dear. The savior shall come by riding on his stallion, rescuing you from this soaring prison. It’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s been years, Barnard – years. The only visit I get is once a week from the blessed fairy, when she gives me the time warping candy pellets.” The maiden gestures toward a petite pink box sitting on the cobbled window ledge. “Speaking of which, I could really use one of those now.”

“Now, miss? But it’s so early!”

The girl plops two white tablets in her mouth and loosens her bun. Golden locks spill on the wood floor, flowing like a curious, honey serpent. “Exactly, Barnard. Maybe they’ll speed things up if I take them in the –” She moans. “Oh my, those kicked in quick.” Her eyes roll to the back of her head as pleasure drowns her mind.

Minutes pass before the voice of a wandering prince resonates from below. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair so I may climb the golden stair!”

“Do you hear that, Barnard?” Rapunzel asks. “I think it’s already working; I can hear the future.”

“My lady, come now! He’s finally here to rescue you!”

Rapunzel smiles before she drifts to sleep. “Barnard, wake me up at happily ever after, ‘kay?”