by C Ross
paparazzi, he walked out into the street. To the Prince’s dismay, the street was deserted save for a beggar sleeping under a store front. No one was here to find out the juicy story of why he had left his room at last.
The café was small and there seemed to be no one there. The Prince’s eyes began to water as he realised it had all probably been a joke. But then he saw her, a beautiful full bodied woman, relaxing alone at a table, he caught her attention with a click of his tongue and she stared at him with her bright yet aggressive eyes.
He walked over, his knees going weak, “H-Hello there, Candy?”
She stood up looking surprised, “Oh wow are you a prince or something?”
The prince reflected on the royal velvet cape and gold trimmed crown he had chosen for the event. “Yes I am,” he sat down.
Candy held a confused look on her face ,”Wait. Are you that prince who never leaves the palace?”
“Um well yes I but I do leave the palace, you know to play Croquet occasionally.”
“Oh my god, well yes I’m Candy, nice to meet you.”
“So you live locally?”
“Yep I’m just round the corner, do you want to see my place?”
“I thought we were having cof-“
She interrupted him, “Oh we can get some coffee at my place.”
They got up and left out the back of the building. The Prince looked down the dark alley, this looked like a place you would be mugged three times faster than you could say ‘please don’t hurt me!’ Yet he uneasily followed along even though he felt he was being watched.
“Hey don’t be scared I’ll protect,” she rubbed his arm seductively. He delicately removed her hand from his Armani suit jacket (its outer layer was sensitive to the slightest human touch).
Candy’s apartment was a shabby mess. “I’ll go get that coffee, my king.”
“Prince,” he corrected her as he ran a finger on a dust mantelpiece, “I should send my cleaner over here, looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years.”
But before he could phone for a germicidal purge of the apartment Candy had appeared back at the doorway... wearing nothing at all.
“Oh gosh woman you’ve lost your clothes! Cover yourself!”
She laughed and ran towards him.
“Away!” the Prince commanded as he scampered into a closet and locked it from within with a mangled coat hanger. He wasn’t afraid to give himself to this woman it was just that he couldn’t easily summon the ‘royal staff’. In his moment of stress and in his confused erotic state he once again opened up [www.daddyissues.com] for the second time this day (though this wasn’t even close to his daily average). The white light from the phone dispelled the darkness of the closet. Candy was trying to break in now, “Make me royalty my king!” she shouted.
“Prince!” he shouted back.
He looked back to his phone but once again he was distracted by an ad banner from a Mr Ron Jeremy…
Have a pinner? Feel the bulge with this one simple trick!
“Oh God, thank you!” he exclaimed clicking without hesitation.
“Wow, it really is that simple!”
Candy pressed her ear to the door as she heard the strange sounds, like knuckles cracking and joints popping.
“I’m ready!” he shouted as erupted out of the closet. Already out of his clothes and did a front flip and landed perfectly on all three legs.
…
“What a magical evening,” the Prince sighed.
Candy still lay on the bed out of breath. He checked his phone for the time and found more offers from Ron Jeremy popping up on his phone. “Who was this elusive benefactor?” he wondered, “And what else will he help me with?” Time would tell.
“I must be off, my favourite tunic is in the wash,” he announced.
Candy simply moaned in reply as the Prince swung his cape on his shoulder and put his crown on at an angle as he strutted off into the night. Just as he was approaching his car a shadow jumped from the darkness at him.
“TAKE EVERYTHING!” the Prince squealed.
“Uh okay. I just wanted to ask you if you had any spare change but-”
“DON’T STAB ME, JUST TAKE IT ALL.”
By now the driver was out of the car, scratching his head at the public scene.
“Okay sure, I’ll take this stuff off your hands,” the beggar smiled to himself. “The driver shouted to his Prince who was still petrified with fright and blinding handing over his crown and royal gown, “My Prince he is simply a beggar there is no need to give up everything.”
“No no, my life is more valuable,” the Prince muttered through frightful sobs.
And with that, the beggar shrugged his shoulders and hopped into the Mercedes and sped off.
“I’m lucky to be alive! Quick, call another car and we’ll make our way back to the palace. I need a bubble bath,” the Prince commanded to his driver. No reply came from the driver who was talking on his phone. “Unbelievable rudeness, I am firing you!”
The driver turned around with his hand over the receiver, “I’m afraid I don’t work for you anymore.” And then continued listening to the voice before promptly hanging up, “Well looks like I am fired anyway, turns out the new Prince is happy to drive his own supercars. This is unfortunate; I do not know how I will provide for my family. The kids will-”
“UNFORTUNATE!? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, I HAVE BEEN USURPED BY A PEASANT!” shouted the ex-Prince. The driver wrung his cap and looked down to the ground, he was already feeling the shame that the inevitable conversation with his wife would bring on. She worked so hard, looking after the kids every single day while I was having fun joy riding in expensive cars and I can’t even do that right. His shame felt was so intense that it burned his cheeks with such heat that he didn’t notice the tears dripping off his chin. This would be the last straw, she would move back to her parents and take the kids…
“All I’ve ever wanted to do is protect and love my family, and now”
“Oh come one, try and not think of yourself all the time,” the Prince snapped but then came to a realisation, “Family, that’s it. My father will sort this out.” The Prince ran full pelt to the palace only wearing beggar’s garb. He tried in vain to convince the Royal guards to let him through the main gate, only to spot his father and the dirty beggar sharing espresso martinis on the balcony. “Father that isn’t me,” he shouted his voice cracking.
The King of Nigeria chuckled, “Of course it isn’t. I like this Prince much more, he has got guts you know? He takes what he whatever he wants, your crown, your money, hell he has even changed the décor of your room.”
“No. No, you can’t. The interior design of that room was designed with both the Fibonacci’s golden ratio and the ancient concepts of Fung Shui intertwined!”
“I am afraid I already have ex-Prince. And a lot of other things are changing around here as well!”
“This is terrible Father! What about my endowment?”
The beggar laughed, “Looks to me like you’re already well-endowed, my friend” who then shook his head and retreated into the palace with the king. Now the Prince began to cry as he sat on the gutter watching the cars go past. The smoke choked his already taut airways, it took him everything just to get his breath back as he was glimpsing distorted reflections of a sobbing lonely man in their reflective surface. Not before too long the driver appeared in the distance still sobbing with his tie hanging loosely off his neck.
The Prince remembered how harsh to the driver earlier in the night. He grabbed the gutter and tried to pull himself up but was amused to find that the bulge in his pants had still not retreated. He laughed to himself quietly, and then went silent and grabbed his phone without hesitation. “I still have you… Mr Jeremy,” he whispered to the moon shining brightly upon his teary eyes.
He skimmed through the messages and found exactly what he wanted.
Make $800 a day from the house.
“It’s easy!” –Ri
ch Woman
“THANK YOU RON!” he shouted as he spammed the button.
Nothing happened. “Where is my $800?” He frantically checked his pockets and ripped off all his clothes but found no cash. The driver looked at him condescendingly, “Put your clothes back on!”
The Prince laughed with a slight glint of madness in his eyes, “Of course it won’t work. I need to be in a house!” Running to the nearest shack, he kicked the door down. A nearby woman screamed as she lay witness to an embarrassingly out of shape man clothed in nothing but his briefs suddenly, and materialise money out of thin air without warning. The Prince laughed as cash poured over his body. He hoarded the money, piling it into his underwear. By now the woman was in hysterics, so he threw her some money from which she fainted. The Prince’s concern was distracted by another message on his phone.
What is the first letter of the alphabet? A, B, or 5?
“This is easy!”
The driver scoffed, “Of course it is. It’s a sca-“
Before he could finish a bar of solid gold dropped from the sky and knocked him out cold.
“Look who’s the smart guy now,” he said to the unconscious driver, “Me, I’m the smart guy.” The Prince pocketed the gold but then had a change of heart and tucked the gold bar into his jacket. The Prince spent the next two hours answering ridiculous quizzes and then walked to the Treasury Office, paid off all the debt and promptly bought the country of Nigeria.
…
Jeremiah as it is now called, in honour of the newly elected King’s glorious mentor, greatly prospered with their main