Wednesday Muse #33 – Walls
Photo Credit: Vanessa Barger
Walls
I live in a perfectly nasty, grey, dingy, squat tower overlooking a perfectly nasty, writhing, foamy sea (on it’s good days), with exactly 113 steps leading to the topmost rooms of my perfectly, wonderfully nasty tower. I have a long crooked nose, unfortunately with no warts, and a long, somewhat stubborn chin. I have evil, beady black eyes, and unruly black hair that sticks out in all directions from under my hat. I prefer to think of myself as a perfectly nasty person. I eat chilled newts for breakfast and have stewed toads with nettle tea at lunch. Dinner is spent with some maggots in slime, pouring over the latest “Evil Extrodinaire Magazine.”
So, now that I have revolted you (much to my delight) I wish to tell you exactly why I have bothered you. There is something that has been nagging me for weeks now. Why is it that in all the fairy tales, the cutesy, sugar oozing, sickening princesses with “golden hair the color of ripened wheat” or with “flowing chestnut mane” and their wartless, fatless princes go to the King and Queen tooting their shiny horn about overcoming the great evil that befell them. Not only does this make me sick, but most of the time the princess was in a dead faint, lying very gracefully on the floor, drooling out the side of her mouth in a most unbecoming way. What part did they have in it to begin with? Does anyone ever think about how long it takes to become a very good evil person? It takes years of rigorous training, years of grimacing in the mirror until you find that special look that strikes fear into the hearts of men (or bats, rats…whatever is handy at testing time.) I studied for nearly a decade with the wicked witch of the east, until that sugary dame in the sequin slippers squashed her while she was casting a spell over those pint sized pipsqueaks by the yellow road.
Why is it that no one ever just asks us if we’ll let them go. We’re only going to roast you, but hey, where does common courtesy go? Just because I’m the bad guy doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a little respect now and then. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve always been fortunate and gotten the real dimwits. It’s just that every friend I have made so far has either been mashed by a house, shoved into an oven, (and turned into a very delicious pie I might add. Served all one hundred of us nasties at her funeral I believe.) turned into a genie and doomed to eternal servitude; generally destroyed. I would like to know what superheroes and courageous princes will do when we are all gone. I mean, think for a moment, how long do you honestly think that society will accept a bunch of barrel-chested men in tight spandex without someone to throw over their shoulder?
You may think that I am attempting, as that loathsome wolf did in the “Three Little Pigs,” to make excuses for being the way that I am. Ha! I would never do something so very good. I am only asking just where the niceties have gone. Nowadays there is only “Yo, buddy, I want my Princess.” Not a formal challenge among them. It used to be “Thou evil and wily wizard! Wilt thou not fight me for my beloved?” Or some such nonsense. I call it this because the memories bring a tear to my evil eye. Those were usually the most fun to toy with. But their Princesses were also the most hysterical, sappy china dolls I have ever had the displeasure of capturing. I suppose that now I must get to the point and ask someone who is slightly less bias than myself.
SO what is it? Is it the fact that we just are too good at being bad and you’re jealous, or have we just become a passing trend? To be quite honest, I would be perfectly happy staying here in my perfectly nasty, grey, dingy, squat tower overlooking my perfectly nasty, writhing, foamy sea (on it’s good days) doing all the bad things that I do best to specially chosen persons who venture to close to my sphere of influence. I would say thank you, but that would be far too polite of me.
Signed,
~Murky Darkcloud~
Evil Enchanter Extroidinaire
So, now that I have revolted you (much to my delight) I wish to tell you exactly why I have bothered you. There is something that has been nagging me for weeks now. Why is it that in all the fairy tales, the cutesy, sugar oozing, sickening princesses with “golden hair the color of ripened wheat” or with “flowing chestnut mane” and their wartless, fatless princes go to the King and Queen tooting their shiny horn about overcoming the great evil that befell them. Not only does this make me sick, but most of the time the princess was in a dead faint, lying very gracefully on the floor, drooling out the side of her mouth in a most unbecoming way. What part did they have in it to begin with? Does anyone ever think about how long it takes to become a very good evil person? It takes years of rigorous training, years of grimacing in the mirror until you find that special look that strikes fear into the hearts of men (or bats, rats…whatever is handy at testing time.) I studied for nearly a decade with the wicked witch of the east, until that sugary dame in the sequin slippers squashed her while she was casting a spell over those pint sized pipsqueaks by the yellow road.
Why is it that no one ever just asks us if we’ll let them go. We’re only going to roast you, but hey, where does common courtesy go? Just because I’m the bad guy doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a little respect now and then. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve always been fortunate and gotten the real dimwits. It’s just that every friend I have made so far has either been mashed by a house, shoved into an oven, (and turned into a very delicious pie I might add. Served all one hundred of us nasties at her funeral I believe.) turned into a genie and doomed to eternal servitude; generally destroyed. I would like to know what superheroes and courageous princes will do when we are all gone. I mean, think for a moment, how long do you honestly think that society will accept a bunch of barrel-chested men in tight spandex without someone to throw over their shoulder?
You may think that I am attempting, as that loathsome wolf did in the “Three Little Pigs,” to make excuses for being the way that I am. Ha! I would never do something so very good. I am only asking just where the niceties have gone. Nowadays there is only “Yo, buddy, I want my Princess.” Not a formal challenge among them. It used to be “Thou evil and wily wizard! Wilt thou not fight me for my beloved?” Or some such nonsense. I call it this because the memories bring a tear to my evil eye. Those were usually the most fun to toy with. But their Princesses were also the most hysterical, sappy china dolls I have ever had the displeasure of capturing. I suppose that now I must get to the point and ask someone who is slightly less bias than myself.
SO what is it? Is it the fact that we just are too good at being bad and you’re jealous, or have we just become a passing trend? To be quite honest, I would be perfectly happy staying here in my perfectly nasty, grey, dingy, squat tower overlooking my perfectly nasty, writhing, foamy sea (on it’s good days) doing all the bad things that I do best to specially chosen persons who venture to close to my sphere of influence. I would say thank you, but that would be far too polite of me.
Signed,
~Murky Darkcloud~
Evil Enchanter Extroidinaire
Don’t Forget to Check These Out!
Each Wednesday I post a snippet written in response to a photo or other writing prompt. These are the other fabulous authors participating in our blog ring. Be sure to stop by, read, and tell them what you think! If you’d like to be included in the Wednesday Muse series, please let me know! I’d be happy to add you to the list!