Alien

Justin traced a finger lovingly down Lana’s jawline. Suddenly he stopped, frowned, and retraced its path. He raised an eyebrow and drew back a little for a better look.

“Err, honey?” he said, “I hate to break the mood, but do you know your right cheek is all green and scaly?”

“Huh?”

“Your cheek. It’s all… umm… icky?”

“No it’s not.”

Justin frowned.

“Definitely is, honey – are you allergic to anything?”

Lana jumped and raced to the bathroom, leaving Justin staring in her wake.

Five minutes later she returned, picture perfect and smiling serenely. Justin checked – her cheek looked and felt like normal.

“I hate to ask,” he sad hesitantly, “but what on earth was that?”

“Just some old pizza cheese!” she said brightly, and wrapped her arms around his neck, angling in for a kiss.

Justin laughed and pulled back a little.

“Pizza cheese? First, we had sandwiches for lunch – and I think I would’ve noticed if it’d been there long enough to go green! Seriously, babe, what’s really going on? Skin infection? Herpes? Whatever it is, we can deal with it, eh?”

Lana sighed.

“Oh well…” she said, “I guess you had to find out sooner or later. I’m an alien.”

Justin sat down hard and laughed.

“Geez, the things women will do for vanity, love! I won’t stop loving you if you have a gross green rash all over your face!”

Lana snorted.

“You mean you never suspected? I mean, I don’t breathe!” she said.

“Welllll…” Justin pondered out loud, “You do eat pretty weird stuff.”

Lana’s face fell. “I thought I was eating normal human stuff!”

“Pickle, vegemite and icecream sandwiches?” he asked, “I’ve been wondering if you were pregnant!”

“Fair enough,” Lana said, and smiled.

“Yeah, it -” Justin stopped dead. “Just wait… Lana, you’re a bit fatter than my ex-girlfriend.”

Lana nodded politely.

“And?”

He stepped back a few paces.

“You really are an alien,” he said, awestruck, “God, there’s no way I’d be alive and not single right now if I’d said that to a human woman!”

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Happily Ever After

“There’s no such thing as happily ever after,” stated Kyle.

“Too right,” agreed Merryl.

They stared sadly at each other over the cafe table.

“This SUCKS!” Kyle exclaimed angrily. “Where’s our life of bliss, dammit? Where the hell did it go?”

“Cursed?” suggested Merryl, wearily.

Kyle pondered. “Maybe the whole thing was a farce all along?”

Merryl shrugged. “I’m going to the pub… I’ll be back once I’m drunk enough”

Kyle nodded and stared into his empty cappuccino mug.

Merryl and Kyle had well and truly lost their happily ever after. When they married, they were in paradise. Every day had been sweet and full of laughter. Just two years later, and they were heartily sick of each other. Why? That was what they couldn’t understand. The omens had all been right. Their butt-tattoos matched perfectly. They were most definitely each other’s The One. OK, so the fairy godmother had been a bit overenthusiastic, but they would’ve gotten together eventually anyway. So – why weren’t they still deliriously happy.

Kyle sighed, and pondered, and eventually decided that if things were really in the horrible state that he thought they were in, he might as well risk making it worse and calling in the royal councillors. After all, a royal divorce caused chaos in the fantasy world, and he really didn’t want a bunch of fairies and imps mad at him.

A paparazzo snuck in the window and took a photo of Kyle, blinding half of the customers. Kyle had closed his eyes automatically as soon as he’d heard the window open. Life in the public spotlight did that to you. He sighed, and knew the headline would read: “Heartbroken Kyle Cries While Princess Parties”. Life was easier when you were a nobody. Only the old woman down the street made judgments about your life, not half the bloody nation – with full-colour glossy photos.

Kyle left the cafe and headed for his apartment. He walked in the door, and relaxed. Three inch thick walls, reflective glass (bulletproof, too) windows, a bottle of wine and a Bruce Willis movie. Ahhhhh.

As he watched mindless violence and got slightly drunk, Kyle thought about the royal councillors. Much as he cringed at the idea of sharing their deepest troubles with a bunch of paid assistants… he had to do something. And besides, most of the world knew their issues anyhow, what would a few more people hurt? Decided, he picked up the phone and scheduled an appointment, before he could wimp out.

****

“Oh, you poor dears!” clucked an old woman wearing a Chanel suit and ridiculously dangly earrings. “I think they need some magic back in their marriage! What do you think, Charles?”

“Oh, definitely,” Charles nodded sagely. “The Whooptiwowser?”

“Perfect!” beamed the old woman. “I’ll get right on it!”

The royal councillors bowed, and disappeared.

Kyle and Merryl looked at each other nervously. Magic? It was such an uncertain thing… miracles, catastrophes, and not much in between.

Merryl frowned. “The whooptiwowser?” she queried, “What the hell is that?”

Kyle shrugged. “Might as well give it a shot, love,” he said, “how much worse can things really get?”

A sparkle filled the air, and confetti rained down over them. Strangely, it vanished when it hit the floor. They closed their eyes and grimaced.

Kyle opened his eyes. “I’m scared to open up to you because you’ll be disgusted if you see the real me!”

Merryl opened her eyes and stared at him, horrified. “I always thought you’d decided I was a superficial bitch!”

Kyle grabbed Merryl and snogged her deeply. “Would I do that to a superficial bitch?” he demanded.

“Ummm…”

He snogged her again.

****

“But let’s be realistic,” she murmured a couple of hours later, nestling her head more comfortably in his naked shoulder, “this is all very nice, but it hasn’t fixed everything up, has it?”

Kyle sighed.

“Nah… but it was nice to pretend,” he groaned.

“Wussbag!” she teased.

Sparkles of fairy dust filled the air around them.

“OH lordy,” Kyle moaned, rolling his eyes, “again with the Whooptiwhatsit?”

“I think we need to be fairer to each other,” Kyle whispered to Merryl, “I mean, I whinge about having to take the garbage troll outside to regurgitate, but you do most of the castle bossing.”

“Yeah…” agreed Merryl pensively, “but you work hard too, at… what’s that thing you do?”

“The Pizza Palace, love. But then, I only work there to prove to myself that I’m not an upper class twit with impotency problems.”

“But…”

“Yeah, but I’m not an upper class twit!” Kyle said, and laughed.

Merryl looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“We’re idiots,” he explained, “I mean, we’re more scared of each other than anything else… and you’d think we’d be nice to each other, wouldn’t you?”

Merryl grimaced. “I don’t do nice so well!”

Kyle grabbed her in a bear hug. “But you’re adorable when you’re being sarcastic!”

Merryl laughed.

“So…” she said, “Truce?”

“Nuh-uh,” Kyle demurred, shaking his head, “Surrender or nothing, baby. Come to papa!”

A snort issued from the direction of the ceiling.

“HEY!!” they yelled in concert.

“Who the hell is that and what the hell do you think you’re doing?” screamed Merryl, furious.

“Oh, lighten up,” twinkled Aunt Helgifna as she unfaded into view, “You think it was fun listening to all that? Sickening! And the sex! Oh lordy indeed! Couldn’t you stick a pillow over her face or something? Anyway, that’s beside the point, dearies. You’ve passed Marriage Crisis Talks 101! Happy loving, you smoochy honeys!”

Kyle blanched.

Merryl sighed.

“We need to keep being honest, you know,” she said, “that much truth in a short burst is dangerous!”

“So’s that mad aunt of yours, perving on us like that!”

She burst into giggles. “Oh god, put a pillow over my face!”

Kyle smirked.

“So, happily ever after, now?” he asked facetiously.

“Nahhh…” giggled Merryl, “just stuck and loving it!”

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Cupcake of Love

Love ISN’T!” declaimed Kyle, gesturing grandiloquently and – in general – making a complete ass of himself.

“Huh?” slurred Lachlan, bleary-eyed.

“There’s no such thing,” explained Kyle. “It all makes sense now.”

“Ohhhh…” said Lachlan. “Go to sleep, ya bugger”

Kyle, however, was hungry. He grabbed another cupcake from the fridge and broke a piece off. Chocolate… not exactly original, was it? But oh, so good! That bakery was fantastic. He started to break off another piece, and paused. A corner of folded white paper was sticking out of the cupcake where he’d broken the original piece off. He pulled it out, scattering a few crumbs over Lachlan’s already-grotty carpet.

You will find true love tomorrow. The princess awaits.

“Oh, Lordy!” Kyle groaned. “Someone’s been getting drunk at work and putting the fortune cookie fortunes in the cupcakes! That’s a bit more original, I guess.”

Lachlan stirred again.

“Wha?”

“I found a fortune in my cupcake!”

“Like, a dollar?” Lachlan giggled.

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Never MIND!” Then he got it and laughed.

****

Kyle woke, groaned, and stumbled to the bathroom. After a shower (drying himself with yesterday’s tshirt) and dressing in clothes belonging to him but found deep in Lachlan’s wardrobe, he felt slightly better.He decided to head down to the bakery downstairs for a croissant and coffee.

With a muffin (they were out of croissants) and half a mug of espresso inside him, Kyle was starting to feel better again. Almost human. Then a sound like quietly tinkling bells started just over his left shoulder. He rolled his eyes and sighed. Did he want to know? Suddenly, the tinkling changed to a business-like single PING! A puff of air whooshed over Kyle’s bare neck in the sudden silence. He looked at Miguel, the bakery owner… who was staring at something over Kyle’s shoulder. Before he disappeared from view with a THUMP.

“Oh dear,” said a sweet, motherly voice. Kyle was even more on guard than before. He knew that sweet motherly voices belonged to sadistic serial killers almost as often as they belonged to sweet motherly people… if not more often. In fact, he didn’t remember ever meeting a sweet motherly person. He turned around.

Standing behind him was a plump, sweet, motherly-looking woman dressed in pink and clutching a purple fluffy wand with a sparkly star on the end.

“Some people just DO not cope with the paranormal,” she tsked. “Now you – you look like a sensible lad. No fainting for YOU!”

Kyle fainted, out of sheer bloody-mindedness.

****

He woke up, still in the bakery, with the pink-suited woman bent over him. She was tapping the purple fluffy wand on his forehead.

“TA-DA!” She announced, proudly. “Awake!”

Kyle groaned.

“What do you want?”

“Is that any way to speak to the woman who saved your life?” she demanded.

“You didn’t, you daffy dame… you just scared me into a brief coma!” Kyle riposted.

“Oh, have it your way,” she huffed. “Anyhow, I’m your fairy godmother.”

Kyle closed his eyes. His headache was a lot worse now, and he really didn’t need this. Fairy godmother?

“Everyone has one, you know!” she continued brightly. “They’re not always lucky enough to meet theirs in the flesh, though!”

“OK, I’ll bite,” groaned Kyle, “Why am I lucky?”

“Because you’re about to meet the woman of your dreams! An absolute princess!”

GAH. “Ummm…”

“And if you don’t pay attention this time, you’ll end up miserable, miserly, bitter and alone for the remaining 50 years, 3 months and 9 ½ days of your life!” she trilled.

“OK… OK, I’ll keep an eye out, and I’ll fall in love, alright?” Kyle said. “Now… will you leave me the hell alone and get back to your psych ward? They must be worried about you by now.”

“Well, I…” the fairy godmother stuttered, outraged, “…I NEVER!” And she disappeared, somehow managing to make the tinkling and PING sound offended.

There was a THUMP from the direction of the counter as Miguel fainted again. It was going to be one of those days, Kyle mused, as he gently tipped a glass of water over Miguel and copped a right hook to the jaw for his trouble.

Miguel opened his eyes, focused blearily on Kyle, and muttered, “Don’t fall in love with the princess!” … then closed his eyes again. Kyle sighed. He was used to weird trips, but they usually happened because he’d deliberately taken something in the safety of his own (or Lachlan’s) flat… all of this was just strange.

Merryl, Miguel’s baker, bounced in the door and stopped dead.

“What happened?” she yelled, “You didn’t do this, did you? Were there robbers? Are the takings gone? They didn’t steal the bread, did they?”

Now that was an impressive obsession, thought Kyle. Who on earth steals bread these days? He quickly explained… and was astounded to discover that she seemed to believe every word. Together, they got Miguel on his feet and, propped up by the counter, able to serve customers. Merryl pulled him out the back with her.

“Tell me something,” she said, “They kept mentioning a princess?”

“Yup,” Kyle agreed morosely, staring at the oven and wondering if the weirdness was over for the day.

“Oh, well then..” she grinned, “You’re screwed. I’m the princess, and I’m irresistable!”

She leant over, pulled him out of his slouch, and kissed him slowly and carefully.

“Ummmm…” said Kyle when he finally got his breath and wits back (just). “Princess?” Bet she wants a pumpkin carriage to take her to the wedding, too, he thought cynically. Too many women with princess fixations these days, thanks to Disney. Although maybe he could cope with it from Merryl… dear God she was hot! And that kiss…

Before he could slide completely into a dream world, Merryl slapped him gently around the face and answered. “Yup, bona fide pedigreed princess of the blood royal here. No money – our country disappeared into myth centuries ago – but I’ve got the proof right here. Only two craftsmen in the entire world know how to craft them these days.”

“You carry a tiara in your handbag?” Kyle questioned derisively, if weakly.

Merryl unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down, revealing a cute black lace gstring. Kyle’s eyes widened, and he forgot what they’d been talking about. She turned around, lifted the gstring, and pointed to the ornate crown tattoo on her cheek.

“That’s my proof!” she grinned, appreciating the ego boost from his reaction. “It’s less conspicuous than a tiara!”

“Less conspicuous?” he murmured. “I’m going to remember that the rest of my life!”

“Of course,” she grinned again, “but it’s different with you. It’s your destiny to fall in love with me!”

Kyle grinned back and reached for Merryl. “That might not be so bad a fate,” he whispered, “if you fall in love with me too…?”

“Gracious no!” she exclaimed, whirling out of his reach. “That’s not in the plot at all! I fall in love with a prince only – you commoners fall in love with me all the time though, it’s great fun!”

“Huh?” questioned Kyle intelligently.

“You’re not of royal blood!” she explained slowly and patiently. “I am. You fall in love with me, I don’t fall in love with you. It’s just the way the world works, kid.”

“Well” he said bitterly, “I can see why Miguel told me not to fall in love with you. You’re a bit of a bitch, to put it mildly!”

Merryl stared. She’d never been called a bitch before. A princess yes, by people who shouldn’t have known she was one – but she’d always taken THAT as a compliment. Obviously breeding was showing, she figured. But – a bitch?

“Uhhh…” she managed, but Kyle had already stormed out.

****

A few days later, Kyle and Merryl came face to face in the bakery again.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking,” she said as she handed over a dozen scrolls and a croissant.

“Oh yeah?” sneered Kyle, “Does your brain hurt from the unusual exercise?”

“I was a bitch,” she said through gritted teeth, “and you’re a complete prat. I just wanted you to know that I realised that!” She walked out the back to get her composure again. When she got back, Kyle was gone, a pile of coins lay on the counter, and a long line of customers waited very impatiently for their lunchtime bad-but-oh-so-delicious carbs.

****

Kyle answered the phone to hear Lachlan’s languid tones.

“Hey, maaate… that chick at the bakery was asking after you! She’s hawwwwt and I think she has a thing for you… gonna go for it?”

“Nup.” said Kyle definitively. “She’s a nutcase, and everyone around her’s psycho too.”

“You’re not? Are you NUTS? Have you seen the butt on that woman? Peachy!”

Kyle sighed. He sure had. And no, he couldn’t get it out of his head. She was gorgeous, but she was a psychotic spoiled brat with a princess complex. Then again, she was gorgeous… and clearly nuts about him, no matter what she said.

****

Kyle approached the bakery counter with trepidation.

“Ummm, hi…” he said.

“Good morning!” Merryl said cheerfully and insincerely, “How may I help you, sir?”

“Do you have any humble pie? Because… well, I’ve been acting like a jerk lately and I’ll probably need to eat a whole one.”

Merryl attempted to stop a smile escaping onto her face.

“As a matter of fact, sir,” she said, straight-faced, “we do indeed! Best bakery in the country, you know.”

Kyle laughed sheepishly.

“Wellll…” he said, “I’ve got $10 – want to join me in a slice? My treat.”

“Just a sec – MIGUEL! I’m going off-shift!” she yelled in the direction of the back room.

She untied her apron, hung it on a hook on the wall, and vaulted over the counter. Kyle, impressed by the feat, took a few seconds to follow her to a table outside.

“Can’t stand the smell of bread right now,” she confided, and took a huge bite of her humble pie.

“Hmmm..” she mumbled, mouth still full, “I think I needed to eat this as much as you did… well come on, eat up! Can’t stand a fussy eater!”

Kyle laughed. “You’re nothing like I thought a princess would be,” he confided, “For a start, I thought princesses were all stuck-up and had perfect table manners!”

Merryl snorted. “Only the new blood,” she said dismissively, “My great great great great grandfather thought ‘table manners’ equalled not stabbing your guests at the table, and throwing the meat bones to the dogs rather than starting a food fight. That’s real royalty.”

“Sounds fun,” Kyle raised an eyebrow and grinned.

Merryl leaned over the table and kissed him lightly on the lips.

Suddenly, Kyle’s mind was blanker than usual.

Tinkle! PING!

“YES!” yelled the fairy godmother. “It’s all going beautifully, folks! Carry on!”

Miguel fainted. Kyle beat his head against the table a few times. Merryl laughed.

“Oh, what the hell,” Kyle groaned. “She’s right, you know. I’m head over heels in love with you. Happy?” He got up to leave.

Merryl grinned, stood up, and launched herself at him. Hugging him madly, she bounced up and down.

“I’m so happy!” she squealed. “You’re my prince, you idiot!”

Kyle got his balance back and stared.

“You distinctly told me I was a commoner, woman!” he argued.

“Well, you had to fall in love without expecting anything in return!” she beamed. “And I couldn’t fall in love with you until you fell in love with me – it’s against princess protocol! Didn’t you ever notice the crown tattoo on your bum?”

“Umm… no… I don’t look at my bum much,” said Kyle absently, illustrating a key gender difference while trying to figure things out. “So – you baked fortune cupcakes for me?”

“No, that was Auntie Helgifna,” giggled Merryl, “She thought I was getting a bit old-maidy. She’s the one with the wand.”

****

One month later, Kyle and Merryl were married in the park. Miguel catered the reception. Weird relatives from both sides attended, and tsked about the dodgy blood their respective relative was marrying into. Merryl was dressed in white. Helgifna was dressed in purple. And Kyle was thrilled to be starting out his new life as a prince, married to the most beautiful woman in the world.

Happily ever after, of course.

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