How to Rescue a Dead Princess

by Jeff Strand

  "Okay, that'll do it for me," Randall decided. "But I want you to release my friends to accompany me."

  "No."

  "Yes."

  "Curse you and your haggling abilities!" the Dark One said, slamming his fist against his throne. "At least those will come in useful as well. I'll release one of your friends. Who shall it be?"

  "Tough call. Yvonne."

  "Very well, Scrivener will be sent to get her. Scrivener, bring our friend here a quill and some ink so that he can draw her likeness on your hand."

  After the drawing was complete and Scrivener had gone off to fetch her, the Dark One reclined back in his throne. "Now, you're not going to back out of this deal once I've kept my part of the bargain, are you? Maybe I should get another witness."

  "No need," said Randall. "I've given you my word."

  The Dark One scratched the nose portion of his mask. "Why are your fingers crossed?"

  "Because I'm wishing for a mutually satisfying partnership."

  "Ah."

  They stood there in silence for a while.

  "So," said the Dark One, uncomfortably. "What kinds of food do you like?"

  "The old stand-bys: Fruits, vegetables, meats, dairy products..."

  "I see I'll have to work on making a gourmet out of you. I like to dabble in the culinary arts quite a bit. My own personal creation is Tree Bark Souffle. I eat it almost every third day."

  Randall grimaced. "I hope your tongue isn't involved in the process."

  "Really, it's quite tasty if you remove the grubs."

  Randall stared at him, unconvinced.

  The Dark One looked at the floor. "Okay, I admit it--I was trying to keep this taste sensation to myself. Leave the grubs in."

  Wyrkham stepped into the throne room. "Master, did you receive the latest directory of prisoners?"

  The Dark One shook his head. "I didn't know you'd written it yet."

  "I haven't. I was just kind of hoping you'd received it anyway--would've saved me some time. I'll leave now." Wyrkham exited.

  "As you can see," said the Dark One, "the people around here are like a dictionary with an index--really stupid. I'd estimate that the intelligence level hovers around that of plaque."

  "I can see that. So, when I get back are there any special guidelines I need to follow?"

  "Just do as I do. You should know that I am a cruel and heartless leader. Always have been. Back in school, when one of my classmates said that his dog ate his homework, I cut open the dog to make sure."

  "Your mother must've been too close to gas fumes when you were conceived."

  "Well, the dog lived...until it went and drowned in a well during a rescue operation. This Yvonne, do you have strong feelings for her?"

  "Yep. They seem to lack credibility from a character standpoint, but they're there nevertheless."

  "Well, be good to her. Women are to be cherverybody says the same thing. It's very strange."

  Another silence.

  "You know, you could do your part to keep the conversation flowing," said the Dark One. "If we're going to be working together we need to keep the lines of communication open."

  They were spared from further discomfort by the entrance of Scrivener and Yvonne. "Oh, my love-bucket, I've missed you so!" said Yvonne, hurrying over to Randall and giving him a hug.

  "Lay off the hugsies," scowled the Dark One.

  "Are you okay?" Randall asked Yvonne. "Did they hurt you? Did they take advantage of you in ways you cannot vocalize? Did they smack you around like a rag doll and kick you in the face and stomp on your back? Did they put you through an unending whirlwind of nightmarish horrors that have burned their way into your consciousness like a magnifying glass frying an ant?"

  "They ignored my request for a sponge bath."

  "Enough!" said the Dark One. "Scrivener, locate the Mountain of Rock on the crystal ball. Randall, you and your beloved will be sent there for exactly ten minutes to complete your task. If you fail, I'll send you back for another ten minutes, but I will not be happy about it."

  "Okay, it's ready," said Scrivener.

  "Excellent. Join hands, you two."

  Randall and Yvonne held each other's hand.

  "Now, hop on one foot."

  "Whose?" Yvonne asked.

  "Randall's," said the Dark One. Yvonne hopped on Randall's foot, causing him to wince with pain.

  POOF!

  Suddenly they were standing on the top of a huge mountain, outside a small hut. A sign on the door read Here Lives Jenstina the Ogre. Solicitors and Toenail Seekers Unwelcome.

  "I guess we should knock anyway," said Randall. He reached for the brass lion's-head knocker, then jumped back in surprise as its mouth opened.

  Unfortunately, from where Randall had been standing, a jump back in surprise was equivalent to a jump back onto the air just beyond the edge of the mountain. This particular air possessed a majority of the properties generally associated with air, most notably the one about not being able to hold the weight of a human being, thus explaining why Randall fell.

  Reader Participation Segment!

  How do YOU want the story to continue?

  IF YOU WANT Randall to grab onto an outcropping as he falls, read section (a) of the next chapter.

  If you want Randall to flap his arms and try to fly like a birdie, read section (b) of the next chapter.

  If you want Randall to do nothing, because as we all know the Fates control our actions anyway, read section (c) of the next chapter.

  Chapter

  24

  Maturity Wasteland

  (a) IT DIDN'T work, and Randall fell to his death.

  ~The End~

  (b) IT DIDN'T work, and Randall fell to his death.

  ~The End~

  (c) AS RANDALL fell, he knew that doing anything would be pretty much a waste of time, since the Fates control our actions anyway. And it was the correct choice, for the Fates saw fit to have him land on a section of mountain rock that had been magicall

  y transformed into rubber several years ago on a bet that was never paid off and resulted in a broken friendship. He bounced off it and landed on another section of rock that was not rubber, but was thin enough that he broke right through, falling several feet into a reservoir of cold water and immediately getting sucked into a whirlpool. At the tip of the whirlpool, he was hurtled into a very narrow underground cave, where he crawled amongst the stalactites and stalagmites in total darkness, until the rock collapsed beneath him again, dropping him into a tar pit. Fortunately, this pit hadn't been filled with tar recently, and he climbed out to be swallowed whole by a Slime Worm, which burrowed its way through the rock to the surface and then spat Randall out over the edge of the mountain. He landed on a makeshift catapult that had been used decades ago in the infamous Catapult-Your-Parents games, sending him flying high into the air and landing in front of Jenstina's door several inches from where he'd fallen in the first place.

  Still a bit shaky from his experience, he fell off the mountain again and went through the procedure a second time.

  "You done?" Yvonne asked, as he landed next to her.

  "I'm done," said Randall. "Did you already knock?"

  "No. You should have said something if you wanted me to take care of that while you were gone." Yvonne reached out and grabbed hold of the ring on the knocker.

  The lion's mouth opened. "Let go!"

  "What do you mean, let go?" Yvonne asked. "You're here to be knocked upon, aren't you?"

  "If you don't get your hand off me, I'm gonna bite you!"

  Yvonne removed her hand.

  "Show a little respect," said the lion. "If you had a big ring sticking out of your forehead, would you want people bashing it against your face?"

  "No...I guess not," Yvonne admitted. "I just assumed that was what it was there for."

  "Don't assume. When you assume, you make a jerk out of you and me. Now, what do you want?"

  "We want to talk to Jenstina," said Randall.


  "So what am I supposed to do about it?"

  "Well, you were supposed to make a knocking sound which would let Jenstina know that we were standing at the door," said Yvonne.

  "Oh, my, haven't we just got this whole thing all planned out as pretty as punch?" said the lion. "I'm glad that you've seen fit to make me part of your delightful little scheme. Ooooh, I'm so honored! Gosh, I certainly don't mind that I became an integral part of this whole scenario without being asked about it first! What do I care? I'm only a lion's head knocker, right?"

  "I'm sorry," said Randall. "Will you please let Jenstina know we're here?"

  "Ooooh, he said please! That just makes everything all right, then! One magical word and I'm supposed to leap into your arms and give you a great big hug! Why don't we just get married and stop the charade?"

  "Why exactly are you here, then?"

  "I'm an ornament."

  "You're pretty sarcastic for somebody who's basically worthless," Randall told it.

  "What do you mean, worthless? I'm attractive. People like to look at me. I spice up this whole door."

  "Yvonne is attractive, too, but if she just hung on a door to be looked at she'd be basically worthless. How many visitors do you get out in these parts? Not too many, I bet."

  "We get enough."

  "Yeah, right. Your life is a joke."

  "You take that back!"

  "I won't!"

  "Okay, well, what makes your life so great, then?"

  "I'm on a quest to resurrect Princess Janice of Mosiman. Without her, a realm stretching for six kingdoms will suffer."

  "Oh." The lion looked sheepish. "Listen, I'm sorry I gave you so many problems. I don't know what comes over me sometimes. I was on Thorazine, but the prescription ran out, and, well, we never got around to refilling it. You know how it is."

  "Of course."

  "Hey, J!" the lion shouted. "Some people here want to talk to you! Get your boondocks out here!"

  The door swung open, revealing Jenstina the Ogre.

  "Wow..." said Yvonne, as she and Randall both stared.

  Jenstina looked uncomfortable. "Ummm...may I help you?"

  "Sorry," said Randall. "I guess we didn't expect you to be quite so much of a stud muffin."

  Jenstina struck a pose that accented his manly body, and gave a smile that accented his handsome face. "I know, I know, ogres are supposed to be grotesque. Well, I always say that you should always try to look your best, which is why I use Momma Helga's Beauty Ooze."

  "It's very impressive," said Randall.

  "Go on--look me up and down. You'll be glad you did."

  Randall and Yvonne looked him over. As Randall's eyes lowered to his sandaled feet, he made an observation. "You don't have any toes."

  "Nope. Toes just get in the way."

  "I guess it goes without saying that since you don't have any toes, you probably don't have any toenails, either."

  "Nothing goes without saying if you're dumb enough."

  Randall sighed. "Sorry to have wasted your time. We'll be going as soon as the Dark One teleports us out of here."

  "Say, you two wouldn't happen to be interested in seeing my toenail collection, would you?" asked Jenstina. "It's the fourth largest-one in the land! I've got toenails from far and wide! Human toenails! Dwarf toenails! Kiriki toenails! Toenails that have been chewed on! Toenails that have grown so long that they curl around! Hang-toenails! I've got them all!"

  "I'd love to see it!" exclaimed Randall.

  "Well, come on in!" Jenstina stepped back into his hut, gesturing for Randall and Yvonne to follow. Toenails, thousands of them, hung from the walls, all of them clearly labeled. The dinner table was fashioned from one giant toenail, with a second toenail split into four parts functioning as the legs. The place smelled rather bad, but that had little effect upon its glory.

  "This is incredible," said Randall, overcome with emotion. "I mean, I've never seen so many toenails in one place before!"

  Jenstina beamed with pride. "I plucked them myself."

  Yvonne was truly awestruck. "Amazing. Just amazing." She put her hand on Jenstina's shoulder. "You are truly a great man."

  "Thanks," said the ogre. "My father always said, son, you've got to have a purpose in life. His was to cross a moose and a bullfrog."

  "What did he hope to get?"

  "A really ugly bullfrog."

  "So what made you start collecting toenails?"

  "Well, I started with fingernails, simply because you see them more frequently on a daily basis. But something was lacking, the spark just wasn't there. Then one day I pulled off some guy's toenail by mistake--my morning cider had fermented a little too much, I guess--and there it was! The spark! The thunder! This was what I wanted to do with my life! And here I am, three weeks later."

  "Is this stuff insured?" Randall asked.

  "You better believe it. For both theft and potential health hazards."

  "I want to remember this visit for the rest of my life. Do you give out souvenirs?"

  "No."

  "Oh, come on. Surely you can part with just one of them."

  "No toenail will leave this hut."

  "Please?"

  "Absolutely not."

  "Okay, look, here's the deal," said Randall. "I need one of your toenails to give to the witch Grysh! If I don't get it, Princess Janice will stay dead forever! This is vital!"

  Jenstina folded his arms. "No."

  "Please! You don't understand how important this is!"

  "Yes, I do. I just don't care all that much." The ogre thought for a moment. "I guess we'll just have to find a toenail that I haven't had time to grow attached to yet."

  "Great! Which one?"

  Jenstina held up a pair of pliers. "Yours."

  Randall went pale. "I beg your pardon?"

  "It's simple. You give me one of your toenails. It becomes mine. I give it back to you. You then own a toenail from Jenstina the Ogre."

  "Look, man, you've got toenails everywhere! Why can't you just give me one of them!"

  "I don't want to." Jenstina snapped the jaws of the pliers shut. "This is your only chance."

  "I've went through a lot of pain these past couple days," said Randall. "But this...this is just too much. I'm begging you! Don't force me to give up my toenail!"

  Yvonne stepped forward. "I love Randall with all of my heart. If I have to make a sacrifice for him, then I will." She kicked off her shoe, and held her foot up to Jenstina. "Take mine."

  "Yvonne, you don't have to do this!"

  "Yes, I do. I have to do it for us." She looked at the ogre. "You use anesthesia, right?"

  Jenstina shook his head.

  "Oh...well...do it anyway. I will suffer the pain!"

  Jenstina lowered the pliers and clamped the jaws shut upon the toenail of Yvonne's big toe. She squeezed her eyes shut. Randall took her hand and held it tight.

  "Sacrifice..." she whispered.

  "We'll be together always," Randall told her. "Always."

  "Always..." Yvonne whispered.

  "I love you so very much," Randall said.

  "Love..." Yvonne whispered.

  "It'll grow back, for crying out loud," said Jenstina.

  "Do it!" said Yvonne. "Do it now! Do it while I can feel the love pouring through my being! Do it while the strength of a thousand martyrs flows through my veins, giving me the power to make this eternal sacrifice in the name of Love!"

  Jenstina's grip on the pliers tightened.

  "The time has come," he said.

  "The time is now," Yvonne whispered.

  The room seemed to darken. Randall felt an aching in his very soul that he thought might never vanish.

  And then....

  With all his might....

  Or at least most of his might....

  Jenstina....

  The ogre....

  Yanked!

  "OW!" screamed Yvonne. "Damn that hurt! Son of a bitch!" She began limping around the room,
wincing with each step. "Criminy! Ow, ow, ow! Freakin' crap! Dang!"

  "Are you okay, my love?" Randall asked.

  "Hell no I'm not okay! That jerk pulled out my friggin' toenail! Ouch! Jeez, it stings like a bastard!"

  "Here you go," said the ogre, handing the toenail to Randall. "It's a fine specimen. I don't suppose she'd let me have one for my collection?"

  "Ow! Farkin' jeepers!"

  "No," said Randall, "I wouldn't think so."

  POOF!

  Suddenly they were back in the lair of the Dark One.

  "Excellent! You got it! That leaves only Shreddriff the Berserker." The Dark One considered that. "Do you think he'll misbehave? Should I have some guards ready to subdue him?"

  "Might be a good idea," said Randall. "You never can tell with these berserkers."

  "Very well, it shall be done. Now, off with you!"

  POOF!

  Suddenly they were on a small island out in the middle of the ocean. Across from them, maybe fifteen feet away, was another small island, containing a palm tree and little else. A man with long, wild hair and filthy rags for clothing stood upon the island, frantically scribbling something on a piece of bark. He rolled up the bark, shoved it into a bottle, then heaved the bottle as far as he could into the ocean. It promptly sank.

  "Wooga wooga!" shouted the berserker in frustration. He fell to his knees and began digging.

  "That would be our berserker," said Randall.

  Shreddriff dug up another bottle, tore a strip of bark from the palm tree, and began writing on it again. Once again he shoved it into the bottle and threw it into the ocean. Once again it sank. "Wooga wooga!"

  "Pardon us for interrupting!" Randall called out. "But if you closed up the bottle, it wouldn't sink."

  The berserker looked over at Randall and immediately went nutzo, running around the island screaming incoherent babble. He started biting the tree.

  Randall and Yvonne exchanged concerned looks. "So, who wants to swim across and say hi?" asked Yvonne.

  Shreddriff bit a huge chunk out of the tree, swallowed, and then began jumping up and down, flapping his arms. "Wooga wooga! Wooga wooga!" After a few moments, he calmed down a bit and began breathing deeply. "Breathe in...breathe out...ahhhh."