Excuse me whilst I puke, before I pen this tale…
(Imagine the worst, followed by a vigorous brushing of the teeth and a desperate swirl of gargle)
Ahh, there now.
I’ve had the terrible misfortune to witness the powerful destruction and pursuant misery caused by one ‘Princess’ (and Queen Mother) in my lifetime; a thirty-year-old, selfish, demanding, tumor-like growth of psychotic baggage, I accidentally discovered… attached to her father’s hip.
Her father had stepped back into my life from the past.
I virtually walked right into him one day at the grocery store…bump!
We had been friendly for years, without having had any regular contact. I would see him at family functions on occasion, and the here and there of a working environment. He always came to my charity dinners and donated clothes, sheets, rugs and dishes, etc., to the shelters and halfway houses for which I collected.
But I had not seen him for quite some time, and didn’t see the happenstance coming. We started talking; a friendly conversation, and before I knew it the subject gravitated to surviving our lives and making a date for dinner.
But back to the (I’m feeling nauseous again) Princess.
When she was a baby, her mother The Queen had decided immediately that she was going to have everything she ever wanted in life; through this child.
My friend – and occasional mentor – had been married to The Queen, resulting in a collar around his neck, a short leash, a child that had not yet spoken her first word, and The Family Court System...
The harder she pulled that leash…the more he drank.
He drank a lot back then.
I remember him crying one night. The Queen was living with another King. But she wasn’t getting married to The New King, because that would ruin the best of both worlds. She would live with The New King; enjoying all the privileges of a new kingdom…whilst holding up The Princess like a beggar’s cup for more money than the courts had awarded her from The Old King. (That would include the beautiful castle The Old King broke his back for, and that was handed over to The Queen shortly after she had The Princess)
Since The Queen was Jewish and the dethroned King was not; the holidays proved to be especially rewarding for both the Queen and, depending on who you asked, the Princess. The Queen would always have The Princess on Jewish holidays…but hold her for a King’s ransom on Christmas, Easter, and every other Catholic holiday. An additional ‘price’ that he gratefully paid out of love for his daughter.
This would prove to be to be quite the lesson for the upcoming Princess, who would later become a prodigal mother herself, and hold the granddaughter Princess for ransom; just as The Queen had expertly instructed.
Oh, those royal lessons.
But I get ahead of myself here.
The dethroned King was always a hard-working man that built a thriving business from the ground up. He became successful enough to live a prosperous, comfortable life; only to be quickly picked clean like a fresh roasted chicken by the gluttonous Queen, the well tutored Princess, and of course, The Family Court System.
The King was also sued by The Queen for her lawyer’s fees, because she claimed poverty….as running a huge castle cost so much money she did not have enough left over to fight for the right to have The King’s fortune. So the newly dethroned King, paid for his own lawyer, and the lawyer that The Queen used to sue him for his own money.
Now, without much forethought to all of this…the greedy Queen did not realize she was putting the dethroned King into an inevitable state of bankruptcy. That would affect the cash-cow business that financed the kingdom in which The Queen, The New King and the 21 year premium-yielding Princess were squatting. As everything was still in the dethroned King’s name, and neatly tied into The-Money-Grows-On-Trees-Corporation.
The Queen panicked, and formally crowned the new King, thus alleviating the dethroned King of her state enforced cuntimony. The dethroned King was elated, but his business was still in trouble, and he found no more solace in the bottle, nor the arms of any other fair maidens.
His little Princess’ love was auctioned off by The Queen at whim whenever she needed some extra gold. The Queen also informed the Old King that she was moving out of state, and needed to put the castle up for sale. The heartbroken Old King decided life was not worth living anymore, and debated committing suicide.
His love for The Princess kept him from it.
The Queen now realized that her monthly-court-mandated-Princess-stipend, and all of its perks, was in serious jeopardy. She decided to back off, and get a job. Her new corporate title would be “The Battered Wife,” and she quickly secured a high-paying position and retirement fund… through the Family Court System, once again.
After successfully dethroning another King, she settled into a modest new castle with incomes from two dethroned Kings: cuntimony, and princess support. She was proud of herself, as she worked very hard to achieve the golden goose-egg status of ‘Entitlement.’
The Princess grew up very quickly, after taking classes in ’emotional terrorism,’ ‘recreational drug use for sympathy,” and ‘how to secure an income through pregnancy,’ she graduated top of her class. She then commenced advanced studies at The University of Family Court; The Ivy League college for Princesses to this day.
Young women from all over the world study very hard in hopes to earn their rightful place there. Its prestigious status revered… and competed for…aggressively.
Her degree secured the Princess her own cuntimony and princess support, with an added bonus of a Grandfather–King-allowance. The Princess’ Princess is set for life.
The Princess decided one day, that my friendship with her father was a threat to her creative extortion of money from the Grandfather King. Since she was constantly throwing her own dethroned King into the dungeon for non-payment of Cuntimony and Princess support, which he enabled her to do by being injured on his job.
She decided that The Grandfather King would be her supplemental income so she could have all the privileges she was accustomed to, without skipping a beat. She waved around her Sympathy Sword like a mighty warrior. One day, she waved the sword in the wrong direction, after the Grandfather King said a word that she had never-ever heard before …
“No”
This word, the one word she had never heard before in her lifetime, caused the Sympathy Sword to gash open her arm and put The Princess in the hospital. It would prove to be her best trump card to this day. Whenever she needs a new flat-screen television, a computer, an IPod, or a trip to Disney World with the Granddaughter Princess, all she has to do is show up wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and rub her scar like it still bothers her….and scratch it.
Much like a ‘scratch-off’ lottery ticket, that always fucking wins.
The Grandfather King loves his Grandaughter Princess so much that he has decided that his own Princess will never do right by her, and set aside a trust fund for her education. He knows that his Princess will inherit his business (or the swift liquidation of it) when he dies.
So my good friend, The Old King, has informed me that he has a small extra life insurance policy set aside in addition to his others, and has named me the beneficiary. It is a mere ten thousand dollars, but he said to me, “I know that you will at least make sure I have a coffin, and a proper funeral, when I die.”
I’ve never felt so honored, and saddened, at the same time.
