The Shittiest Princess is a series of funny fairy tales for those of us who ain’t exactly cartoon princesses. Stay tuned for a new adventure every week! You can find the whole series here.
In the happy land of Respectica, there once was born a lovely Poor named Agnes. There were lots of wealthy and powerful people in Respectica, but poor Poor Agnes just wasn’t one of them, damn it. So Agnes sought her fortune in the land of Kingdomville, where she became a hot-shit Prince by marrying Princess Poot, the shittiest princess. Kingdomville was an odd place, but not all bad. Disco Tuesdays were quite fun, and the local cupcakes were out of this world. Until Evil Queen Bucky came on the scene.
Evil Queen Bucky was a very beautiful woman, and very thin. Like some very thin people, for some reason she just couldn’t shut the fuck up about it — nay, she must talk about being very thin all the time, for, as the best Science Dudes in Kingdomville reported, yapping on about lentils burns a lot of calories.
One day, Prince Agnes lounged in the dungeon she shared with her friend-wife Poot. They dove into a dozen cupcakes because Aunt Flo was visiting, and that shrew was a huge fan of the baked goodies. The group’s joyous sugar-fest was halted when a long shadow loomed across their snack time.
“What are those disgusting things?” screeched the shadow named Queen Bucky.
“They’re cupcakes,” replied Aunt Flo. “And I always demand them when I’m in town. Everyone knows that!”
Bucky entered the dungeon and snatched up one of the pink confections. “This is vile. Look at the sugar. Look at the food coloring. And are those, gasp, oh, my stars — jimmies?! This will not do at all.”
Agnes yanked the cupcake from Bucky’s talons. “Then don’t eat it yourself.”
“Well duh.” Bucky rolled her eyes, which famously contained zero percent body fat. “But I can’t just not eat a thing. I have to help. By ruining it for everyone else.”
With these ominous words, Bucky threw the remaining treats to the floor and stomped from the dank room. Agnes and Poot appeased Aunt Flo with Pizza Rolls, but she was mightily put out, and punched them both in the stomach for their failures.
The next day, the entire kingdom would shudder at Queen Bucky’s latest helpful health announcement — by royal decree, all cupcakes were banished from Kingdomville. Wails and cries of woe filled the streets, and the bakers of the country draped their formerly cheerful businesses in black.
It was a dark time. After dinner every night, Prince Agnes was presented with a dessert made of kale. Kale soufflé. Kale meringue. Kale pudding with sadness sauce (made with kale). Without cupcakes, Agnes became listless and tired. She stopped doing her favorite things, such as eating cupcakes. She created a petition to allow cupcakes once again, but Queen Bucky sent her Healthy Attitude Minions to set it on fire.
Late one night, after everyone had gone to bed, Agnes heard a knock at her dungeon door. She sat up in bed to see a small white item being slipped underneath. It was a note! She put on her fuzzy dragon slippers and read it by candlelight:
Great Prince Agnes,
Thank you for your support! Freedom for cupcakes! If you want to help more, come to the abandoned bakery on Food ‘N’ Shit Avenue tomorrow at midnight.
PS: It’s the pink building — the brown one is the Shit Emporium.
Love and Sprinkles,
The Flexible Cupcake Warrior
Agnes clutched the wonderful missive to her chest, glad to be able to finally support her beloved desserts, and also flexible warriors.
Just as instructed, Agnes passed by the Shit Emporium at midnight the next evening. She knocked on the draped black door of the bakery. Nothing happened. She knocked again. A panel in the door slid open. A deep, mysterious voice said, “What’s the password?”
“Um?” replied Agnes, for she had not been given one.
“That’s not it. ‘Um’ would be a pretty stupid password.”
“I don’t know.”
The voice grew indignant. “That would also be a seriously insecure password!”
“No! That’s the password for the Emporium next door.”
Agnes stood tall. “I am Prince Agnes of Kingdomville, let me the fuck in, or I’ll set the plague on your shitty little bakery!”
The door swung open. A tall man grinned and said, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
She pushed past this moron and entered the room. An amazing scent wafted into her grateful nostrils — cupcakes! The mysterious man with the deep, jerky voice jumped behind the counter and offered her a chocolate and peanut butter cupcake, which she devoured greedily. “Prince Agnes, your beauty is even greater than the poets say.”
That’s true, thought Agnes. She took closer look at the baker, who was actually quite handsome in a floppy white dude sort of way — all curly black locks and melting green eyes. “Thanks for the fix,” she said.
“I’m happy to fix the Prince,” said he with a wink.
“What can I do to help?” Agnes asked.
The increasingly-attractive baker sat her in an armchair and knelt before her. “Sexy Prince Agnes, I cannot feed my eight grandmothers and seven grand-uncles since Queen Bucky the Perpetually Hungry banished cupcakes.”
“How about your kids and wife?” asked Agnes. “Can you not feed them, too?”
“Alas, I have none of those to feed. I’m super single and ready to mingle.”
Agnes hid her smile and nodded. “Go on.”
“I wondered if there might be a way your glorious brain can think of to get Bucky the Cupcake Killer to stop being such a wang.”
Agnes thought with her glorious brain, and tapped her sexy foot in concentration. “There might be. I’ll need a dozen dozen cupcakes and some visual proof of how flexible you are, Sir Baker.”
He swung into a back bend and gasped, “Over a hundred cupcakes! All hail our glorious prince! Also, I’m double jointed, and my name is Harold.”
And so Harold the Flexible and Double Jointed Baker baked all night, and Agnes the Brilliant Sexy Prince watched him. And ate. The cupcakes, not Harold. That would come later, after the cupcake emergency had passed, for Prince Agnes was very committed to the freedom of baked goods, and also had a good vibrator in the meantime.
Bleary-eyed but determined, Agnes enacted her plan the next day. She took three dozen cupcakes to the palace’s Most Exalted Good Pill Doctors. She took another three dozen to Kingdomville’s Official Dudes Who Do Magic. Then she took six dozen to Princess Poot, and they had a nice snack of beer and cupcakes while they stalked Harold the Baker online. They found out that he did roller derby on the weekends.
Agnes waited for her seeds of sedition to grow forth into bushes of sweet freedom. She sexted Harold for a little while and had a nice nap.
The next day, King Handsome proclaimed that daily cupcake-eating was mandatory for all citizens of Kingdomville.
You see, in exchange for the cupcakes, the palace’s Most Exalted Good Pill Doctors had agreed to issue a paper decrying kale as causing Assholism. There was no proof to this, but those doctors were all high on pills and really Jonesed for the sugar rush that kale simply could not give because it is gross and of the devil. Instantly, every person in the kingdom threw their greens into the streets in dismay. Except for the assholes, who just went about their business.
Concurrently, the Official Dudes Who Do Magic held a meeting with the king, during which they told him that cupcakes were magical Viagra. Since this was the long-ago times, and Viagra didn’t exist, King Handsome really needed a little something to help keep up with his young wife. Agnes had known that the Magic Dudes held a weekly orgy, and that erotic cupcakes made for a sexy craft services table.
The bakers of Kingdomville were saved! Harold performed a sexy dance on roller skates in appreciation of Agnes’ efforts, and they totally got busy, hell yeah.
And so the moral of the story is to eat what you want and not be a turd about other people’s food, even if it is a kale smoothie, which is nasty.
Next week — a tale of intergalactic espionage with “The Shittiest Princess and the Cats from Outer Space”!