Cynical Tales for Cynical Children

by Timothy Ahern

  For one thing it is a question which is asked a great many times in the story and yet, suspiciously enough, is never really answered.

  At the risk of destroying the magic of the narrative I must draw back the curtain and allow you, the reader, a glimpse into the creative process by revealing the fact the question itself is something of a running gag wherein the question is only ever asked by such people as would already know the answer and, as such, do not expect to have one supplied4.

  Since the intelligent people are the ones who already know about the differences between a belt, a baldric and a cravat it is clear that any attempt to provide the reader with an answer would be a waste of ink, paper and time.

  At this point we acknowledge that, while you, the reader, are counted among the intelligent people owing to the fact that you were clever enough to purchase this book there are others who may have obtained their copies through less than scrupulous means and therefore lack the required quota of intelligence to know the differences between the three items. As loath as we are to reward such scurrilous methods it is purely in the interests of spreading knowledge and teaching lessons that we therefore refer those individuals to the back of the book where a comprehensive answer awaits.

  3

  A note for any Emperors or future Emperors perusing this weighty tome. We are, naturally, speaking about other emperors whose inept leadership of their individual countries both invites and compels invasion. At no point do we suggest you are capable of making a mistake or being wrong in any way.

  4

  Logically speaking they do not need to be provided with an answer about the items mentioned and even an informative list, which would otherwise be helpful, would be met with a barely disguised condescension.

  RATIOCINATION

  Now I'm prepared to accept the child is the punchline to a joke this entire story has been slowly leading up to. What spoils the joke is the fact that everyone in the city had heard of the amazocloth and how you couldn't see it if you were an idiot or unfit for your job neither of which anybody was about to admit, except for this small child who pointed out the naked truth as it were. Logically speaking someone should have made a pointed remark about what a shame it was the child was simple and maybe the imperial procession is disrupted by the subsequent punch up which would be a considerably more honest reaction to her words than the entire city suddenly laughing at the ignoble emperor.

  With all of this going on in the city where and what are the lessons to be learned in the actual story?

  “Don't be afraid of bucking the trend”

  It might be a good one since it works equally well in the fields of politics and fashion. If just one single person had approached the emperor with their hat in hand and confessed they hadn't been able to see the cloth the emperor would naturally have dismissed him as he was the proof the amazocloth was working perfect. This person would have been a laughingstock across the length and breadth of the city right up until three minutes after the procession ended. At which point they get called into the head office and rewarded for their honesty. Unfortunately, since nobody was brave enough to do anything so daring, we can't actually count it.

  “When the time comes to exit then get out while the getting is good. Don't hang

  around to gloat”

  As loath as I am to come down on the side of the baddies the last we hear of them is after they've dressed the king and waved goodbye. As soon as everyone is out of sight the pair have made a quick exit out the side door without waiting to see the face of the Emperor on his return or delivering some kind of witty monologue about how they were so clever.

  We can assume they managed to stay free because there's no sequel to the story where the two conmen are captured and brought before the emperor so they might face justice for their actions.

  THE FROG PRINCE

  In which we discover the dangers of associating with social climbers.

  Manipulation. Yet another tool for those who desire power and control over individuals, groups, nations and possibly even the world1. It’s an effective tool because sooner or later everyone has some kind of skeleton in their closet and everyone has a fear of their skeletons being revealed for all the world to see leaving the manipulatees with have no other choice but to do something both about and to their manipulators.

  To explain this properly it is necessary to view this story as not unlike a metaphorical apple which, at first glance appears to be nothing more than yet another piece of perfectly innocent fruit2 yet one only needs to take a bite in order to discover that its rotten, rotten to the core. To the casual observer this much studied apple of narrative appears to be nothing more than one in which a prince is mildly inconvenienced by a witch, a princess is likewise mildly inconvenienced by a frog and from this point on events can best be described as 'heavily contrived'.

  In order to expand this already expanded and increasingly mangled piece of metaphorical fruit it must now be revealed to the reader that those who are willing to bite into the apple are able to discover this story is not, as many have being led to believe, about royal couples who have nothing better to do than collect vaguely interesting stories about how they met.

  Rather it is a story with a timely warning about the dangers of trusting not only strangers but, given the level of political intrigue and machinations taking place behind the scenes, those you already know.

  ack in the days when wishing still helped3 there was a castle in which lived a king who ruled over all he surveyed, currently this included a great deal of valuable land, innumerable peasants of questionable worth and several beautiful daughters. Finally, and Bin order to dissuade the attentions of potential Lotharios, the king also surveyed a highly effective brute squad who often took pains to make certain everyone agreed the royal children were among the most beautiful, if not the most beautiful, in the land.

  Of all the royal daughters it was Francine, the youngest princess, who made the mistake of looking slightly downcast where the brute squad could see her and, in a perfect demonstration of their effectiveness, went out of their way to convince several passersby she was a young woman who was a thermonuclear weapon on the international scale of comeliness4. In order to escape from the crowd of spontaneous and completely voluntary admirers who had suddenly dropped everything they'd been doing in order to bask in the royal presence the princess made her way through the dark forest5 to a clearing which was somewhat off the beaten path and ensured she'd be alone with her favorite toy, a golden ball she would throw into the air and catch before throwing it even higher6.

  After all this buildup you might well ask what's going to happen to the princess and realistically speaking it needs to be something pretty horrific since we've already learned there's a princess who 1

  For the advanced student.

  2

  Yet much maligned.

  3

  Provided one knew what to wish for and since so few of us ever do this is just another way of saying not at all.

  4

  Brute Squad is just a name. It doesn't mean you can't be sensitive towards the feelings of others.

  5

  We've got a king and forest. If this all turns into Macbeth I'll be considerably happier.

  6

  It's not as though modern children would know anything about playing with balls. They're all too busy with their Playboxes, Xstations, Rap music and not getting off my lawn.

  sometimes feels sad and deals with it by going off to be alone in a spooky forest where there's a well the right size for someone the exact size of a princess with a ball to tumble down.

  Unfortunately this story was written long before my opinion ever counted for anything and in returning to the narrative as writ we discover the young princess, having thrown her golden ball too high, was forced to watch as it splashed down squarely in the middle of the well where, in accordance with the laws of comical tragedy, she had just enough time to make a wild lunge for her favorite toy before it sank straight t
o the bottom.

  At the loss of her precious ball the princess wept, cried and generally carried on until there was a voice where there shouldn't have been a voice.

  “There's plenty of water in the well already you know. You don't have to add more”

  “What. Who said that?” Francine looked around the clearing to find herself quite alone except for a frog who was sitting patiently on the edge of the well “did, did you say something?”

  The frog nodded and managed to snatch a fly out of the air while looking slightly disgusted at the ease with which he did so.7

  “Alphonse Amphibianski at your service”

  “Princess Francine at yours. You seem well spoken for a frog”

  “What do you want me to do, sit there and croak? There's a whole colony of that down the well, I just came up to get some peace and quiet”

  “That well is the source of all my problems. I've just lost my golden ball down there and there's no way to get it back”

  Alphonse took the time to stretch his long legs before answering “I'm thinking your problem might just have a frog shaped solution”

  “You'll get my ball back for me?”

  “Now there's an idea. I have to ask though, what's in it for me?”

  “Daddy has a brute squad”

  “That’s nice. Can they swim?”

  “Possibly all the way to the bottom. I take your point Mr Amphibianski and can offer you clothing, jewels, and a spare gold crown I don't use anymore. Get my ball back to me and take your pick”

  “Clothing, jewels and a gold crown. I don't really need any of that stuff so allow me to propose an alternative. I am, as you have already noticed, not your ordinary frog and I find that life in this well may well be a strong contender for the most boring thing in the world. Therefore, if you allow me to be your companion, allow me to sit by you at mealtimes, eat off your plate and sleep in your bed then I'll happily swim down and bring back your pretty golden bauble”

  “You presume to request a great deal sir”

  “I presume to know what a sellers market is. Do we have a deal?”

  “Fine then. My golden ball in return for all the stuff you wanted” the frog jumped into the well and left the princess alone with her thoughts, which is dangerous company at the best of times.

  “Who is this impertinent amphibian to turn down my jewels and even a crown? It's not as though I even offered any of that other stuff and if I suddenly showed up with a frog by my side I'd be the complete laughingstock of the entire court. Frogs are good for nothing except sitting, croaking and singing about how it's not easy being green”

  Led on by this line of reasoning the princess grabbed her ball from the frog as soon as he surfaced because beautiful doesn't equal nice. Keeping her ears closed to his pleadings about her promise she ran through the forest and back to the safety of her castle.

  7

  One of the few benefits of amphibianhood is the ability to use trick shots in order to nab unsuspecting insects.

  Granted it isn't much of a benefit but when you're forced to live as a different species through no fault of your own you take what you can get.

  The royal family addressed their royal dinner as the royal court looked on in accordance with ancient tradition although the meal had barely begun when the universe conspired to break from tradition and the frogs voice was clearly heard from outside the castle.

  “Good evening Princess. Come down and open the door for me”

  “Did anyone else hear that?” the king asked

  “I didn't hear anything dad”

  “It took a while Francine but I made it to the castle. Now if you'd open the door I'd be grateful” the frogs voice echoed through the royal court.

  “I, uh, I think there might be someone at the front door for you”

  “I don't think there is. It's probably the wind or something”

  “Who is it that could make you so afraid? Is there a giant who wants to carry you away perhaps?”

  “It's not a giant. What kind of giant bothers to knock on doors?”

  “The polite kind, if it's not a giant then it must be a dragon. I knew we should have put traps down”

  “It's not a dragon either. It's a sort of frog”

  “Pardon?”

  “I'm a frog!” called out the previously mentioned frog from, as previously mentioned, outside “if I were a dragon this situation would be entirely different”

  “My daughter is scared of a frog?” The king stroked his beard in contemplation of this strange situation “you know what? I think you'd better go ahead and let him in because I just know I'm going to want to hear this story”8

  Ah well, it had been such a nice meal except now the angriest princess in the world was forced to retrieve the smuggest frog in the world and was forced to be the center of the royal courts attention9

  while she explained the entire story to her father, or at least the entire story up until this point.

  “An interesting story” the king mused “though the funny voices were a bit much and frankly the less said about the footnotes the better. What it all boils down to however is that you've given your word and in this family we don't break promises for any reason”

  “You heard the man Franny, lift me up beside you” Alphonse demanded with far too much familiarity

  “we'll share your meal just like you promised we would”

  “It's Francine to my friends and Princess to you” she muttered as the royal dinner was divided into pieces small enough for a frog to handle.

  “Oh yeah? Well it turns out I'm pretty tired and I think we should retire to your chambers”

  “Are you kidding? It's far too early to go to bed”

  “Too early for you maybe but some of us spent the day making a long and dangerous journey from the depths of the spooky forest to the royal court so maybe you'd like to think about keeping your promise and taking me up to your room where we can rest”

  The use of the royal cushion was a stroke of equally royal genius because it meant the royal hands didn't have to touch the unwelcome guest any more than was strictly necessary. At least that was the plan, the sight of the princess carrying a frog through the corridors of power brought the entire castle to a screeching halt and the walk from the court to her chambers had never taken so long before.

  As soon as the pair were alone she dropped Alphonse into the coldest corner of her room and fell onto the bed in an effort to somehow wake up and discover this was all a dream brought about by some bad cheese.

  Spoiler alert. It wasn't, furthermore a peaceful nights sleep was denied her as well because the voice of the much loathed Amphibianski called out in the quiet of her chambers.

  8

  If the king had taken the opportunity to buy this book he could have heard this story and many others with footnotes and points of interest such as have been highlighted and examined in meticulous detail. He didn't and therefore wasn't as fortunate as you, the person who actually did. Please take this opportunity to congratulate yourself for being smarter than a king.

  9

  If we're being honest she was always the center of attention except this time it was entirely in the worst way.

  “Oh Princess”

  “Go away Mr Toad. You've ruined my life”

  “Oh Princess Francine”

  “I'm asleep! I'm not listening!”

  “Oooohhh Priiinncesss”

  “What! What do you want now?”

  “Oh good you are awake” Alphonse jumped onto the table beside the royal bed “I was beginning to wonder. Anyway, number one I'm a frog not a toad. There's a difference”

  “Frog, toad, whatever. You'd be amazed at how much I don't care”

  “Number two I'd just like to say if I don't get to sleep in your bed just like you promised then I'm going to have to let your father know about how you're the one member of this family who can't keep their word”

  Alphonse's blatant attempt at emotional blac
kmail enraged the princess so much she forgot all royal etiquette, snatched him up and threw him at the wall as hard as she could. In the time it took the stunned frog to hit the wall with a particularly satisfying thud and drop to the ground his body grew a great deal larger, a great deal pinker and a great deal nakeder because when he stood up he revealed he'd transformed from ugly frog to handsome young man with a rather pressing need for a suit.

  “Francine you've saved me” Alphonse didn’t hug the Princess in gratitude since he was busy covering the royal parts with the royal cushion “there was a wicked witch who changed me into a frog”10

  “Is your name really…?”

  “Most people just call me Al. I can't do anything about the Amphibianski unfortunately, it may be an ancient and proud name but in these modern times it's a direct challenge to any wicked witch with a healthy sense of irony”

  After all the excitement the pair went to sleep an act, incidentally, which quite solved the issue of suits being pressed and if you thought he'd caused comment around the royal court when he arrived as a frog it was nothing compared to what happened when the pair turned up for their royal breakfast as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  The sudden appearance of Prince Alphonse Amphibianski wasn't the only thing to cause comment in the castle because the Amphibianski royal carriage, pulled by eight white horses who were resplendent in ostrich feathers and chains of pure gold pulled to a stop outside the castle. At the reins, dressed in fine clothing, was the princes own trusted servant.

  “It's good to see you again sire”

  “I've never seen you in my life” the king declared “are you one of my lesser servants?”

  “I'm actually the sire he's talking about, um, sire” the prince clarified

  “Who is this person?”

  “Oh he's just my serving man. Faithful, um, thingy”

  “Henry, sire” the servant supplied in the weary tones of someone who's had to remind his boss of his name more than once.

  “That's it. Faithful Whatshisname. But enough about the lower classes, it's time for us to return to my own castle”