Queen Ingrid & Toe Fright

The Queen envisioned herself in a cottage crafting teas, potions, ointments and poetry. A sizzling cauldron or two and a dozen feline visitors everyday. Alas fate had other ideas. Instead she was surrounded by noblemen (who may or may not be plotting to kill her), servants, entertainers and pampered friends and family.

Queen Ingrid was living a dream. For the self-confessed introvert, it was Hell on Earth. She was beginning to wonder if the whole monarch malarkey worth it? Why did her stupid husband decide to do jousting after a pub crawl? No wonder the poor man turned to rum. Mucky McMuck’s Shakespearean speeches that referenced his irritable bowels was enough to sent anyone down to the asylum.

It was high time that common sense was brought back into the world. On top of it all she had a talking mirror on the wall that everyday would tell her she was foulest one of them all.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. It seemed to be only cats that loved her. The mirror was harsh. Yes she burped and farted much more than a queen should. She used cuss words daily, and had some affairs, but to be called the foulest one of all? Well she was sorry for being human.

For a change, she decided to make some lavender and cinnamon tea. She had plenty of servants who could make tea, but none of them made it the way she liked it.

The tea had to be brewed with real lavenders picked from the bush and with cinnamon sticks, not the powdered crap riddled with ants. It couldn’t be done in any old teapot too. It had to be brewed in Queen Ingrid’s silver cauldron with dragon patterns. The spirits trapped in the cauldron gabe the tea the ooh that brings the floral benefits to life. Queen Ingrid sprinkled a little bit of golden powder because she believed everything tasted better with turmeric.

It was great thanks to these teas that Queen Ingrid didn’t become a frozen dictactor with the temper of a volcano. Smiling, she felt great for once. Not even the mirror was going to let her down.

“Magic mirror on the wall, am I still the foulest one of all?”

“Not anymore. You are no longer trite. The foulest one of all is now Toe Fright. Her sharp tone causes havoc as her body runs amok. Her toes deformed and shaped as a cock which she must hide under a frock. The owner of seven aliens, and they all live and sleep together in the glen.”

“I see.” Queen Ingrid nodded. “My favourite stepdaughter. Ah she’s the one that is being chaced by Prince Thingamajig.” Her mind began to wonder as she pictured the bulky prince in tight clothes and a tan.

“Fat chance!” the Mirror splurted out. “Why would a young Prince like him want anything to do with a hideous hag like you?

Queen Ingrid was no longer the foulest one of all. She decided it was now time to talk to Toe Fright about the legacy in front of her. She didn’t like it, but Toe Fright was her heir, and she needed to be ready for the real world.

The moment she called Toe Fright into the room, she brought all of her seven friends from outta space; Red Fatty, Orange Stinky, Yellow Stringy, Green Slimy, Blue Lazy, Indigo Itchy and Violet Skinny.

“I demand a pay rise!” Toe Fright said. “Cut everyone else’s wages and give it all to me.”

“What about the maids that wash and dress you?” Queen Ingrid asked. How dare she? The nerve of her! “What about the cooks who prepare you food? The gardeners, the butlers, every member of staff is paid a suitable wage. I shall not lower it for your foolish luxury expenses.”

“I’m just like Cinderella!” Toe Freight folded her arms and huffed. She kicked the back of her chair as Queen Ingrid spoke.

“Excuse me,” Queen said. “Cinderella spent most of her childhood being a slave! Your father handed everything handed to you on a plate.”

“Oh Prince Thingamajig proposed to me.”

“Oh how delightful!”

“I don’t need a man. I am going to be the born leader my father told me I can be.”

Queen Ingrid gasped. “You fucking stupid cow! How can you turn down the hottest man that ever lived?”

Damn what a great political alliance it could have been two. It would have been the birth of billionaires and a global marriage between two countries and royal lands.

After the conversation with Toe Fright got nowhere, Queen Ingrid sipped the rest of her lavender and cinnamon tea. Outside the french window, she spotted Prince Thingamajig alone by the fountain. She had to talk to him. Just the sound of his rich European accent was enough to make her blush.

Sitting beside him, she patted his shoulder. “You seem troubled.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Tell me what happened?”

“I got down on one knee and proposed to Toe Fright in front of the seven aliens. They were the ones who helped me pluck the courage to ask her.” He lowered his head as his tears dropped into the fountain ripples. “No one wants me.”

Queen Ingrid smirked at their reflections. “Don’t be daft,” she said. “I’ll have ya.”

Prince Thingamajig dropped his jaw wide open. “You will. Why would a woman of your experience want a naive young soul like me?”

“Well you’re the most charming man on the planet. Anyone would be a fool not to.”

Queen Ingrid and Prince Thingamajig married that sunset. Toe Freight did not attend, but the Queen did dedicate Avril Lavigne’s song, Sk8er Boi to her. She also had a message to her mirror.

“Magic mirror on the wall, I have learned that being the foulest one of all is not as bad as it seems. But heed my warning; next time you call me something whack, I shall give you a lovely crack.”