Holy blue banana-hammock, Blog-man! You’re posting a blog!?
That’s right legions of fans (all four of you)! After weeks of becoming acclimated to working 10-11 hour days, I have finally pulled on my big boy rubber suit, clipped on my futility belt, fluffed my cape, and prepared another totally original, not in any way parodied from some other famous writers, blog. Now, according to the confidentiality agreement I signed, I cannot inform you of how I was inspired to write my own version of a classic “fairy” tale. I can say that after spending over 100 hours reading various insights into the hidden meanings of this tale, it’s time I punished others.
by the Uncle More Grimm
Once upon a time there was a man and a woman who had long, but to no avail, wished for a child. They really enjoyed the trying part of getting pregnant though. Their neighbors would complain daily about the long hours spent trying to make a little bundle of joy. The woman was a bit of a screamer, you know.
Anyways… finally the woman came to believe that the good Lord was fulfilling her wish. All the signs were there: morning sickness, irritability, expanding stomachs, and absent menstruation. So the woman did what all pregnant women did in the late 1600s – she sat around the house, complaining that her feet were swollen and spying on her neighbors’ yards. Through the small rear window of her house she could see into a splendid garden that was filled with the most beautiful flowers and herbs. The garden was surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared enter, because it belonged to a witch who allegedly possessed great power and was feared by everyone. She even once deflated Tom Brady’s footballs without his consent in a vast conspiracy to defame the *cough* greatest *cough-overrated* quarterback in NFL history.
And please don’t ask how a small rear window was able to look over a high wall. Let’s just say the cottage the woman lived in was a three-story ranch style cottage that was rent-controlled.
One day the woman was sitting at this window, and she saw a bed planted with the most beautiful lettuce. It looked so fresh and green that she longed for some. It was her greatest desire to eat some of the lettuce. This desire increased with every day, and not knowing how to get any, she became miserably ill. What was she supposed to do, grow some herself? Head to the local farmers’ market to buy some? It’s a rent-controlled cottage, and they had a fixed income!
Her husband was frightened, and asked her, “What ails you, dear wife?”
“Oh,” she answered, “if I do not get some lettuce from the garden behind our house, I shall die.”
“You mean the witch’s garden? Oh hell no! I’m not going to cave in to this craving! I already spent a week hiking across the countryside to find you some mushrooms and you barely touched them!”
The woman put her hands on her hips and replied, “Okay. How about this… if I do not get some lettuce from the garden behind our house, you shall die.”
The man, who loved himself dearly, thought, “Before you let your wife murder you, you must get her some of the lettuce, whatever the cost.”
So just as it was getting dark he climbed over the high wall into the witch’s garden, hastily dug up a handful of lettuce, and took it to his wife. She immediately made a salad from it, which she devoured eagerly. It tasted so very good to her that by the next day her desire for more had grown threefold. If she were to have any peace, the man would have to climb into the garden once again. The husband grew suspicious and inspected the lettuce more closely.
“Hey, this isn’t lettuce… it’s marijuana!”
The woman shrugged, “You still better get me more. I’m eating for two now.”
Thus he set forth once again just as it was getting dark. But no sooner than he had climbed over the wall than, to his horror, he saw the witch standing there before him.
“How can you dare,” she asked with an angry look, “to climb into my garden and like a thief to steal my weed? You will pay for this.”
“Oh,” he answered, “Let mercy overrule justice. My wife made me do it! She’s pregnant and stupid with hormones or something! She won’t shut up about eating more of your so-called lettuce. I really think she’ll strangle me in my sleep if I don’t return with some!”
The witch’s anger abated somewhat, and she said, “Pregnant, you say? Okay, I will allow you to take as much dope as you want. But under one condition: You must give me the child that your wife will bring to the world. It will do well, and I will take care of it like a mother.”
The man raised his eyebrow and said, “Uh… no. That’s the dumbest trade I think I’ve ever heard. Who do you take me for, Kanye West?”
“Oh c’mon,” said the witch.
The man was swayed by the witch’s argument and agreed to everything.
When the woman gave birth, the witch appeared in a puff of smoke, named the little girl Rapunzel (which is German for some kind of lettuce salad), and took her away. The woman didn’t even cry, she was so high from the marijuana she had been eating for the last two months straight.
Rapunzel became the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was six, the witch entered her in the Miss Toddler Beauty Pageant and Rapunzel lost, but only because another young girl sang the National Anthem while twirling sparklers and wearing an American flag two piece swimsuit for the talent portion. When Rapunzel was eleven, she won the Miss Not-Dead-or-Pregnant-Yet Beauty Pageant. When she was twelve years old, the witch decided to lock her in a tower that stood in a forest and that had neither a door nor a stairway, but only a tiny little window at the very top. And before you ask, no I don’t know why she did it. I also don’t know how she managed to get Rapunzel up there without stairs or a door. I’m guessing she hired some migrant workers to use a crane or something.
After reporting the migrant workers to immigration so there would be no witnesses, the witch needed a new way to get into the tower. So when the she wanted to enter, she stood below and called out:
Let down your hair to me.
Did I forget to mention that Rapunzel had splendid long hair, the color of gold, and the tensile strength of kevlar? Anyways, when she heard the witch’s voice, she untied her braids, wound them around a window hook, let her hair fall twenty yards to the ground, and the sorceress climbed up it.
A few years later it happened that a king’s adopted son was riding through the forest. As he approached the tower he heard a song so beautiful that he stopped to listen. It was Rapunzel, who was passing the time by singing the song which one her the beauty pageant so long ago: Halestorm’s “Freak Like Me.” The prince wanted to climb up to her, and looked for a door in the tower, but none was to be found.
He rode home, but the song had so touched his heart that he returned to the forest every day and listened to it. One time, as he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw the witch approach, and heard her say:
Let down your hair.
Then Rapunzel let down her strands of hair, and the witch climbed up them to her.
The not-quite-a-prince thought, “If that is the ladder into the tower, then sometime I will try my luck. I hope she doesn’t have a grocery face.”
And the next day, just as it was beginning to get dark, he went to the tower and called out:
Let down your hair.
Rapunzel, being one of the stupidest people alive, couldn’t tell the difference between a strange man’s voice, and the witch’s voice. So, the hair came tumbling down, and the prince climbed up.
At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man such as she had never seen before came in to her. “Who are you?” she asked.
The not-quite-a-prince said, “I heard you singing the other day, and have been listening to you every afternoon. I just had to meet you and wow, I’m so glad you’re actually hot!”
“That sounds a little stalker-ish,” said Rapunzel.
“No it’s not. I just watched your tower without your knowledge, listened to you sing without your knowledge, and then tricked you into letting me up here. Not stalker-ish at all.”
“That makes sense,” said Rapunzel and she lost her fear of the strange man.
Then the quasi-prince asked, “Would you be my wife?”
“NO! I just met you. I don’t know anything about you! I mean, that would be the stupidest decision a woman has ever made. Who do you think I am… Mimi Rogers, Nicole Kidman, or Katie Holmes?”
“Oh c’mon,” responded the kinda-prince.
Rapunzel was convinced by his sound argument, said yes, and placed her hand into his.
She said, “I will go with you gladly, but I do not know how to get down. Every time you visit, bring a strand of silk, from which I will weave a ladder. When it is finished I will climb down, and you can take me away on your horse.”
“I don’t have a horse. I have a donkey.”
Rapunzel sighed, “I guess that’ll do.”
The prince smirked, “Can we have sex every time I bring the silk? You know, as a reward for remembering?”
“Well sure. But you better be good at it. I’m certainly not marrying you for your grand stable of horses, now am I.”
They arranged that he would come to her every evening, for the old witch Gothel came by day.
The witch did not notice what was happening. Sure, she could spot one man sneaking into her garden to steal weed all those years ago, but now she was just too tired to care. Luckily for her, Rapunzel was the dumbest person on the planet and one day said, “Frau Gothel, tell me why it is that you are more difficult to pull up than is the young prince, who will be arriving any moment now? Is it because you eat too many chocolate eclairs while watching ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ on your magical future box?”
“You Atheist hellspawn whore,” cried the witch. “What am I hearing from you? I thought I had removed you from the whole world, but you have deceived me nonetheless.”
In her anger she grabbed Rapunzel’s beautiful hair, wrapped it a few times around her left hand, grasped a pair of scissors with her right hand, and snip snap, cut it off. And she was so unmerciful that she took Rapunzel into a wilderness where she suffered greatly. And don’t ask how they got down with Rapunzel’s hair cut off.
On the evening of the same day that she sent Rapunzel away, the witch tied the cut-off hair to the hook at the top of the tower (Oh! Maybe I should have mentioned this in the previous paragraph, uh?), and when the prince called out:
Let down your hair.
she let down the hair.
The prince climbed up, but above, instead of his beloved Rapunzel, he found the witch, who peered at him with poisonous and evil looks.
“Aha!” she cried scornfully. “You have come for your Mistress Darling, but that beautiful bird is no longer sitting in her nest, nor is she singing any more. The cat got her, and will scratch your eyes out as well. You have lost Rapunzel. You will never see her again.”
“So you won’t tell me where she is?” asked the semi-prince.
“Nope! And I’m going to scratch your eyes out!”
“Well then maybe I’ll just jump from this tower instead of trying to overpower an old woman who supposedly has magic powers but hasn’t really cast any spells at all.”
“Go ahead,” the witch said, “I dare you to jump.”
So he threw himself from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell poked out his eyes. “Ow, my eyes! What cruel irony that I would be blinded by a fall I took to prevent having my eyes scratched out!”
The witch shouted down from the tower, “That’s not irony… that’s coincidence.”
Blind, he wandered about in the forest, eating nothing but grass and roots, and doing nothing but weeping and wailing over the loss of his beloved fiance. Thus he wandered about miserably for some years, finally happening into the wilderness where Rapunzel also lived miserably.
He heard a voice and thought it was familiar. He advanced toward it, and as he approached, Rapunzel recognized him, and crying, threw her arms around his neck. “My sort-of-Prince! You found me!”
Two of her tears fell into his eye sockets, his eyes grew back. and he could see as well as before. “Rapunzel? It’s been so long! How I’ve missed … did you gain some weight?”
“Oh yes, darling. I gave birth to twins – a boy and a girl. I suppose I haven’t lost the baby weight yet.”
The maybe-prince looked at the two children. “They don’t really look like me at all.”
Rapunzel blushed, “Well when I was banished here I got lonely. There was this nice merchant traveling by and … well… but the twins could be yours. The merchant and I only did it once or twice, and you had been with me several times the week before I was banished.”
The fake-prince frowned, “And what happened to your hair?”
“Oh, once it was cut off it became this ugly brown color. But we’re together now, and we can live happily ever after!”
The not-a-prince smiled, took Rapunzel’s hands in his, and said, “I think we should see other people.”