The Politically Correct Fairy Tale

(Warning: This Story Is Not For The Humorously Challenged).

Once upon a time. In a kingdom far, far away.

'The Council of Good Morals And Interesting Discussions' decided to buy real estate up on the flat topographic plains of the world. This land was far cheaper than their economically challenged land from low. And therefore, they decided to buy it.

What is the 'Council of Good Morals And Interesting Discussions'? They are a council run by the self-appointed champions of morals, who try to lead honest lives, raise modest farms, play fun (non-violent) games, and have many interesting discussions about the mysteries of the universe.

Realizing that they want a utopian city to explore their new concepts on government, religion, ethnic society, and otherwise feeble way of general ruling. The leaders of this council (who were dragons by the way... they had the majority) decided upon this firmly. And made the decision on behalf of the Council. (But of course there was opposition, this was mostly from the dragons who had no real interest in this council, but are only interested in their own agendas. No surprise, these dragons are also the ones that were kicked out of their parent's dens).

After paying the local farmers 50% profit made in their years of hard work, the vertically-endowed-fire-accessible-lizards ('dragon' was too offensive to the local Viking population; this was decided upon by the council) decided to make a city. One called A (which is the least offensive letter; again this was decided upon by the council) and the other called Tarkinia. The good vertically-endowed-fire-accessible-lizards (or VEFAL) ruled the kingdom called A. Whereas the behaviorally challenged VEFAL (the ones that were kicked out of their parent's den) ruled the kingdom of Tarkinia. After ages of witnessing cultural advancements in their societies, the VEFAL’s became too chronologically enhanced, and therefore passed away. The Council had departed, and it left it's people to rule their kingdoms. The final and necessary stage for their utopian dreams.

The kingdom of A was designed to be the cultural foreground for the disturbed and troubled world. And was powered by wind turbines set outside of the city, it was ecological and a clean way to resource free energy. The city of A had everything a thriving community could ask for. Non-polluting industries, effective public transport, and a well balanced religious diversity. The city called A was a utopia of democracy, and legal rights. The senate members prided themselves in the way the numerically challenged group was heard, and how the big company’s couldn’t bully their way to power. They spent their money to help those who are residentially flexible, and even crafted the town square to be wheelchair accessible.

Now there once was a good milkman, his name was Roy, he lived in the city of A. But instead of using enslaved cows, he delivered a plant-based-low-fat-2%-soy-milk. Twenty years of hard work had left this poor man immobile. And in his whole life his wife (who was dearly departed) had one child, a daughter.

She was a beautiful young woman, with fair skin and silky hair (not that she was being judged by her physical appearance, but instead she was known for being high in merit). Her father (who was member of a nuclear family, and tried to avoid the political pit traps of this culture) had given her a gender neutral name “Armani”.

One day Armani was walking down a dusty old road, (which she thought was a perfectly normal thing for a young woman to do) right outside of the city. She dusted the dirt off of her jeans, which was animal cruelty free, and made without the use of child labour. Little did she know there was a cruel king who was stalking in the bushes. Now in his sexist and twisted mind, he wanted to marry Armani. Without even asking her, or thinking she wouldn’t want to marry him. So he ordered his men to kidnap her. He had her locked in a tall tower, much to her resentment. Their was a naturalist who was looking to set up a wild life foundation who witnessed this. And he quickly went and told the milkman.

The milkman named Roy was horrified. For one: he didn't ask the father to marry her and for two: because she was kidnapped. His friends helped carry him to ‘Wheelchairs R Us’ on the corner of the city. He then rented a wheelchair (for a fair price), and wheeled himself to the senate building. Thanks to the wheelchair accessibility, Roy went in.

He pleaded his case to the senate. “Why would he do this?” Stated one member “this would ruin our perfect utopian of economical, and liberty freedoms! Uh... where did they take her?” The immobile Roy responded “the evil king of Tarkinia has her locked in a tower”.

The senate gasped.

They all heard of the atrocities of Tarkinia. Their people were unregenerate, and irredeemable. Their the kind of people who drank milk from the carton, while using cow enslavement! It was home to mimes, improv actors, and persons with drug dependency. Not to mention ambulance-chasers, internet trolls, country musicians, and dog catchers (it wasn’t the dogs fault no-one wanted them). And that their king was an authoritarian who started no ecological foundations for earth. “What can we do? We can’t go over there and take her back, we would be stealing from them,” said a follically challenged man. "This would ruin the council's vision for social reform: including more economical flexibility, social hierarchy, and topics with little use to society."

“Sue! We’ll sue that son of a mutt, but without meaning any harm to his mother” yelled a voice from a dark corner.

They spun around and saw a knight coming out of the shadows. His armour was shiny and reflective, revealing life of vast luxuries. His hair was in a buzz-cut manner. And oddly, in his hand was an oak-brown suitcase. And draped over his steel battle-wear was a bright red tie.

“Hi” he said slowly. “I’m sir Haven, I’m a knight/lawyer!” He said with a smile. “Perfect idea!” Said the council members. “He’ll deal with the problem, now that you’ll be gone, we can commence with our plans for a Third-World Refugee Reorientation Centre!”

Roy followed the knight/lawyer outside to the ecologically harmless park. In the centre was a bird house, decorated to resemble the VEFAL’s (dragon was still too offensive to the lesser-than lizards). “So what are we going to sue him for?” Asked the immobile man.

“You mean what aren’t we going to sue him for!” He said enthusiastically. “Personal injury, ageism, discrimination, racism, intentional infliction of emotional distress, negligent infliction of emotional distress, sexism, tortious interference, the tort of outrage!” He went on. “B-but I’m not suffering from an injury” said the milkman.

The knight/lawyer turned to him, and kicked him in the kneecap. The milkman howled in pain, and said quietly (not trying to disturb the local bird population) “why did you do that?” Sir Haven smiled, and said “did what?”

“Kick me!” Shouted Roy. Sir Haven had a look of disgust, and responded with “I didn’t do anything to you! Those injuries must have happened during the kidnapping, and now due to the stress, you’re hallucinating”.

The milkman who is immobile stopped. “You’re right” he said after a moment of thinking. “Who knows how long I’ve been in this wheelchair? I know for sure I wasn't in this wheelchair in the morning. Sue that son of a mutt! Sue that son of a mutt!” The two of them chanted that, until they received a ticket for disturbing the peace. The knight/lawyer helped Roy to a mental rehab centre, where he could cope with what happened, and how to deal with the mental anguish.

The knight quickly wrote up a letter, and told the milkman he’ll deliver the court-summons to Tarkinia.

The knight/lawyer rode out on his bamboo-frame bike (for he didn’t want to use horse extortion) and peddled through the open plains of the land. On his way to Tarkinia, he met a fellow who was vertically challenged. “Good evening fellow human!” He called to him. The man smiled and waved back at him, and said “where are you off too?”

The knight didn’t like the invasion of privacy the man who was vertically challenged did, he wrote him down in case if it was sue-able offence.

“I’m going to sue the king of Tarkinia!” The man who is vertically challenged stopped. “Be careful of the VEFAL who lives there. He’s horrific, and blasts fire at people, and he has poor word skills. The worst kind of VEFAL there ever was" (not that he wanted to judge him from somebody else’s opinion). But none the less. The knight/lawyer had a mission to do, to deliver this court-summons. Sir Haven rode onwards. And soon stopped at the doors of the city. There was a sign that said

/no ens from A, ye ain’t welcomed hear./

Sir Haven twitched, not from the unfriendly sign, but from the poor use of grammar.

Sir Haven entered the city cautiously, and found it far worse than he imagined. It was full of dog pounds and apartment houses. The phone booths had gum under them, and they charged too much for short distancing calls. And worst of all, there was no wheelchair accessible public buildings. He parked his bike (careful not to park in the rare handicapped zone). And went onward by foot. He walked through the streets, it writhed as country music was played loudly. Mimes littered the streets, followed by pick-pocket's.

Eventually he found his way to the tower. And there guarding the door was a large VEFAL.

“What ye got in 'em hand of yours?” Asked the VEFAL, his voice was slick and smoky. “I have a court summons from the city of A!” He proclaimed. The dragon expelled air from his naval cavity. And sneered “what if I don’t let ye 'en”.

Sir Haven said almost instantly. “Then the whole force of the legal rights system would sue you for obstruction of justice. Not to mention personal injury, discrimination, sexism, racism, ageism, intentional infliction of emotional distress, negligent infliction of emotional distress, tortious interference, the tort of outrage! The senate would sue, and I bet poor Roy would sue". The knight/lawyer’s largely enhanced words dumbfounded the VEFAL.

“Oh dear!” Worried the VEFAL. Sir Haven continued, “it would cost you a fortune, your grandchildren would still be paying it off!”

“How could I prevent this?” Asked the VEFAL.

“I could be part of your defence. Here’s my card.” He said slipping the large VEFAL a small cardboard card (a degradable compound, harmless to the world). The VEFAL took this, and lifted off to consult his lawyer.

“Dumb VEFAL,” said Sir Haven under his breath (not that all VEFAL’s are lacking in brain power, just this one appears to be). The knight/lawyer entered the stone tower. He trekked up the spiralling staircase (a major feat. Especially for someone wearing a blue suit under his steal armour). And without even asking, he entered the sleeping chambers of Armani. She was drinking coffee with the evil king, chatting about the latest news. And how to assemble a model aircraft. Before the knight/lawyer processed all of this, he quickly ran up to the evil king and slapped down the court summons on the small table. “You evil king! Will be summoned for court, the city of A is suing you!”

“For what?” Asked the dumbfounded king. “For kidnapping this poor, harmless girl” he said. He turned to Armani, and said “Don’t worry! Your father is suing”. Armani put down her coffee, and stood up. "what do you mean?" Armani asked in a perplexed tone mixed with a bit of curiosity. Sir Haven hushed Armani and continued yelling at the evil king. "How could you kidnap this poor defenceless girl?"

Armani tried to get a word in, but Sir Haven kept interrupting her. “Poor, defenceless girl”, he said “can’t you see the men are talking?”

With a glare she stood up and turned towards Sir Haven, “I find your feminist remark offensive in the extreme,” this response was followed by a quick swift kick to the knight/lawyer’s groin.

The knight/lawyer in his haste, forgot to wear his armoured cup. And as a result, he was left moaning on the floor. After he was able to get up, he turned to Armani and asked “Why did you do that?”

Armani, who was drinking her coffee, responded with “Because I haven’t been kidnapped!” She took another sip of the thermally average beverage. “What?” Asked the Sir Haven, who is still in pain. “I didn’t kidnap her,” protested the king. “Yah” agreed Armani. “We were just having a coffee date, we met each others profiles on a dating app”. Sir Haven was now red-faced “But, weren’t you forced by the kings guard?” He asked.

“Tsk, tsk. They weren’t kidnapping me, they escorted me,” she responded. “Now if you excuse me, we were having our coffee date” She then took a frightening step to Sir Haven, who quickly clasped his hands around his groin to protect himself.

The knight/lawyer returned to the city of A. And explained what happened. There was a great kerfuffle that followed the news, but after awhile the new Third-World Refugee Reorientation Centre was the new thing circulating.

After a couple of years, Armani married the king (who wasn’t evil). With her help, he was able to set up more ecological foundations in his city, and animal shelters. He even outlawed mimes (but he was never truly able to rid the streets of improv acting). They lived happily ever after.

Whereas Roy was able to sue the naturalist for misinformation. After days of battling it out at court, Roy got his compensation money. And now lives in an economically well diverse part of the street. And owns an electric scooter to get around. And lived happily ever after. (He also gets sweet gifts from his new son-in-law during the holidays).

The knight/lawyer helped Roy sue the naturalist. And used the money to build a time-share resort complex for holidaying business people. After removing the local indigenous population from their native land. Sir Haven proceeded to build exact replica units of their native village. With each unit a fibreglass reconstruction of their small house. As well as native curio shops, traditional folklore stories (told by actors in makeup), and dolphins shows (with their signed consent and fair wages, of course). The knight/lawyer is now a wealthy business man, and later gave up being a lawyer. Put all of his money in “off-shore” accounts. And is now “flying under the radar”.

He lived happily ever after.

They all lived happily ever after. Except the naturalist, who lost everything he had. And the knight/no longer lawyer took the land the naturalist was going to use as a wildlife foundation (he turned it into a butcher and processing shop, designed for the native rare boar that the naturalist was trying to protect; they’re now an expensive delicacy at his resort). The naturalist also went through a divorce (when his wife left him for a native fellow who was moved out of his home, but now works as an improv actor in Tarkinia), which made him lose all the rest of his belongings. The naturalist now lives under a bus stop station, in the grimy parts of the city. He spends his days writing a column about wildlife reservations, how to preserve animals in their natural habitat, and a local story about an anonymous businessman who bulldozed a nearby native village. He DIDN'T live happily ever after.

THE END.