Story 179: Average and the Beast

(A parody of several versions of Beauty and the Beast)

            Once: there was an average-looking girl who became imprisoned in the castle of THE BEAST, after exchanging her freedom for her father’s after he wandered off and had tried to take a rose from The Beast’s neglected garden as a present for her.  A bit harsh, but so is being transformed for possibly eternity just for rudeness: the world is a cruel place.  That night, the average-looking girl was invited to dinner with The Beast….

            (Average waits at the end of a long table for The Beast to arrive.  The only dish placed for her features some lukewarm soup with a bit of stale bread on the side.  The dining room door bangs open and The Beast prowls in, knocking vases off side-tables and destroying the place settings as he slumps into the chair at the other end of the table.  Average cannot take her eyes off his three-day beard, rat’s nest hair, beer belly, stained undershirt, and sallow skin)

          The Beast: (Stares at Average with bloodshot eyes) Well, go ahead; don’t let me stop you.  (Burps)

            Average: (Slowly eats the soup; attempts a cheery tone) It tastes good.

            The Beast: DON’T LIE TO ME!  (Average freezes)  You really like it?

            Average: Yes, I detect a hint of rosemary; that’s my favorite.

            The Beast: That’s great – will you marry me?

            Average: (Drops her spoon) What?!

           The Beast: (Tears into the bread at his dish and talks with his mouth full) Don’t make me repeat myself.

            Average: What – no – how can you – what – I don’t – when did – how – why – I – what – ?

            The Beast: Pick a question, please.

            Average: Why are you asking me to marry you?  We literally just met two hours ago and I’m your replacement prisoner!

            The Beast: I can’t tell you why.  You just have to say “yes” and everything will be all right.  (Starts picking his teeth with a fork)

            Average: Well, I can tell you right now that if it means having to look at this (Waves her hand up and down at him) every day for the rest of my life, then the answer is a resounding “NO!”

            The Beast: Suit yourself; I’ll ask again at dinner tomorrow.  (Shoves himself up from the chair to leave)

            Average: Wait!  (The Beast slumps down into the chair again, sighing) You have to tell me why, if only so we don’t have the same conversation every night.  That’ll get annoying.

            The Beast: I suppose that’s as good a reason as any.  (Clears his throat very loudly, several times)

            Average: What are you doing?

         The Beast: Preparing to tell the story!  Impatient.  (Clears his throat some more) Once – could’ve been a year ago, could’ve been a decade, I forget – some random old woman showed up here during some random old blizzard and asked me for shelter.

            Average: Awwww….

            The Beast: No, not “Awww”: she was wretched, she was dripping melting snow all over the marble floor, and to top it off, her method of payment was utterly unacceptable!

            Average: Why, what did she give you?

            The Beast: Get this: a rose.  One, single, boring, useless rose, as if that was actually currency, when the sign on the front gate clearly states that rooms here are 250 a night, because money, honey, is what makes all this (He twirls his fingers around his head to indicate the castle) work!

            Average: I see.  Then what happened?

          The Beast: Then, two seconds before I was going to toss her old self out onto the nearest snowdrift, she cursed me.

            Average: I’d curse at you, too.

            The Beast: Not at me – she put a spell on me!  Turns out that she wasn’t an old coot but a hot witch all along.  Obviously, I would have given her the best room in the place – mine, with me – if she hadn’t arrived with false advertising.

            Average: Obviously.  So what was the spell?

            The Beast: (Gives her a withering look) She turned me into a beast!  I didn’t always look like this, you know – normally, I’m quite the stud.

            Average: OK.

            The Beast: I am!

            Average: Sure, I believe you.  (Coughs into her napkin for a bit) And this was all to teach you a lesson about not being a rude snob then, yes?

           The Beast: I guess.  Probably would’ve been easier if she’d just made me live as a dirty peasant like you for a day.  (Average grinds her teeth) She didn’t have to make me so ugh, and she didn’t have to go and curse my servants, either – nothing ever gets done around here anymore.

            Average: (Looks from side-to-side out of the corners of her eyes) Servants?

          The Beast: Yeah, they were punished along with me.  I can take it, but they’re too weak to handle enchantments, why should we all have to suffer?

            Average: So were they also turned into beasts?

            The Beast: (Speaks with an unsaid “Duh”) No, they were made invisible.  (Starts playing with a 200-year-old bottle of wine) Ever since then, I haven’t heard a peep out of them, they’re so ashamed.

            Average: (After a moment) Um, Monsieur – Beast?

            The Beast: It’s not Monsieur, it’s Prince!  And my name’s not “Beast,” it’s Robert Pierre du Lac du Terre!  If I had any friends, they’d’ve called me Bob.

            Average: OK, Prince – Bob.  Just throwing this out there: have you considered the possibility that, after you were cursed, your servants… left?

            The Beast: (In a low voice) That actually would explain a lot.

            Average: All right, next question: how did this lead to you asking strangers to marry you?

            The Beast: Ah, that’s the crux of the matter.  The hot witch said that I had to love and be loved in return for the spell to be undone or else I’ll be a beast forever.  Or is it be loved and love in return?  At any rate, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone because that might taint the “be loved” bit, but you know.

            Average: And since I was the first female who’s ever graced your doorstep after the curse, you automatically think I must be the one to solve all your problems?!

            The Beast: Do you know how long it’s been since anyone has come here?!  I would’ve made a play for your dad if he hadn’t tried to steal from me – I cannot abide a thief, just cannot.  Plus I hate roses now, for obvious reasons.

            Average: Yes, he shouldn’t have taken something without asking, but you realize that love, actual love, doesn’t work like this, right?

            The Beast: (Leans messily over his plate) How about now?  (Smiles, showing his few stained teeth)

            Average: (Trying not to gag) Sorry, your curse is going to have to stay until some other victim – soulmate! – comes along.  (Stands) I regret that I will be unable to serve out the remainder of my sentence, Your Highness.

            The Beast: (Stands in a panic) You’re not leaving?  Was it something I said?

            Average: Yes!  It was everything you said, and did, and emitted!  (Starts to back out towards the door) Go read up on what healthy human relationships are and maybe you’ll have better luck next time.

            The Beast: (Starts to follow her) Next time?!  There may not be a next time, or any other time – would you doom me to remain a beast forever?!

            Average: You seem like you’re doing all right for yourself.

            The Beast: You can’t see it, but I’m covered in unwanted body hair!

            Average: Try shaving.  And taking a bath.  (Runs out of the room)

            The Beast: (Slumps into Average’s chair for a moment, then starts slurping the rest of the soup out of the dish.  Shouts over his shoulder towards the door) By the way, now you owe me 250 for the room!

            Average: (From a distance) I never stayed the night!  (Gallops away)

            The Beast: Fair enough.  (Slurps some more) Maybe I need to imprison the father of someone not-so-average next time.

            (The Enchantress appears before him)

            Enchantress: You could also learn to be a better person!  The love of and for your people would work on the curse just as well – it really is the whole point!

            The Beast: (Lays his head down on the table) Nope: that sounds too exhausting.

Story 178: Faux Snow Day

FRIDAY

“I heard we’re getting a nor`easter next week.”

“Baloney.  It’s almost April, winter’s over, and you know we don’t get snow anymore.”

“We do too get snow – we had those flurries in January!”

“Mm-hm.  And for the past two years we’ve gotten rain, chilly, chilly rain, and it makes me sad.”

“Well you should be overjoyed on Tuesday – they say it’s gonna be a whopper!”

“They say, indeed.  I’ll believe it when I see it.  They try their best, but they’re basically trying to predict the future: can’t be done with any sort of satisfactory accuracy.”

SUNDAY

            “Look at that!  They’re saying we’re supposed to get 18 inches!”

            “There you go with ‘they’ again.”

            “What?”

           “Weather changes from second to second; there’s no way to know what it’s going to do an hour from now, let alone next week.  And it’s 60° outside, for crying out loud!”

            “That’ll just make it all the worse when the storm arrives.  I can’t wait!”

            “Snow is the only type of bad weather most people embrace like a long-lost friend, you ever notice that?  You don’t even play in it anymore!”

            “It’s `cause we’ll probably get a day off from work!  And it’s so pretty.”

            “It’s freezing, it’s hazardous, and it’s a pain in the neck cleaning off and around the car.  And I’m a nurse, so not all of us will get a day off from work, I’ll have you know.”

            “Hey, you knew what you were signing up for with that.”

            “True.”

MONDAY

            “Two feet!  It could get up to two feet now!  I’m not leaving the house for a week!”

         “I have to sleep overnight at the hospital so I’ll be there for the trapped patients in the morning.”

            “Bummer.”

            “I’d say so if it weren’t sunny, mild, and virtually cloudless right now.”

            “It’s not supposed to start until after midnight.”

            “Somebody should tell the poor robins hopping around here as if it were May Day.”

            “Well, I have my sled on standby for when the streets are all covered.  I already called out of work for tomorrow.”

            “Excuse me while I run errands in the glaring sun and turn on the air conditioning.”

TUESDAY

            “I don’t believe it!  Two feet of RAIN!!  This is so unfair – I was going to go ice skating on the frozen lawn, and it’s all wet grass instead!  And I used a vacation day for nothing!”

            “So what’s their story?”

            “Hm?”

            “Them.  They.  The ones who called for tons of the white stuff.”

            “Oh.  They said it got too warm and this is all we’re getting.  No fair, I say!  By the way, how was it sleeping overnight at work and then nothing happening?”

            “Boring.  At least nothing froze and we all have electricity.”

            “Yeah, might as well salvage some of this day and go see a movie.”

            “You do that.”

WEDNESDAY

            “I don’t believe it!  A second nor`easter and we did get two feet of snow!  And nobody was ready for it!  What a mess!”

            “Yeah, what happened there?  Those theys only mentioned the one storm, where’d this come from?”

            “They were so focused on the first one that nobody was really paying attention to the other – they thought it’d be a dud.  I’m so happy, squee!”

            “At least this is my day off and I don’t have to go anywhere.  Think I’ll take a nap.”

           “You’re no fun.  This is our first real snow in two years, and you’re going to sleep through it?!  Where’s your sense of excitement, of adventure, of joy, of youth?”

            “My inner child has gotten extremely tired over the years.”

Story 177: Extreme Extreme Beginner’s Yoga – With Celebrity Cameo

She browsed the DVDs on the display: Advanced Yoga, Intermediate Yoga, Beginner’s Yoga – yes, she reached for that one, then saw – Extreme Beginner’s Yoga – ooh, even better; hang on – Extreme Extreme Beginner’s Yoga?  Perfect.

She picked up that title to read the cover out loud: “Extreme Extreme Beginner’s Yoga… With Chris Basilingworth?”  She saw the star of Sword Slash staring intensely back at her.  “This can’t be right – since when did he become a yoga instructor?”  She would know: she had read his obviously ghostwritten memoir three times, and not a word resembling yoga was anywhere inside it.  She then saw, in tiny print at the bottom of the DVD cover: “Instructor: Maggie O’Dwight.”  Ohhh....

At home, she played the DVD after changing into yoga pants and assembling her yoga mat, yoga block, yoga strap, yoga towel, and yoga water.  Distractions were pushed aside and she was all set to have her mind and body made one.

A serene-looking woman, standing on a mat with her back to a nameless ocean, greeted her on the screen.

“Hello, and welcome to Extreme Extreme Beginner’s Yoga.  You are taking your first steps in your journey to attuning your mind and your body with the rest of the universe as you receive the peaceful wonder of life all around you, and become fabulously toned in the process.”  Her calm demeanor wavered infinitesimally as she moved forward to where a man was standing on a mat in front of her.  “We are joined in our wondrous journey by Chris Basilingwoth, who is a beginner just like you.”

Chris turned to face both the camera and Maggie: “Hi, yes, I’m really looking forward to exploring this amazing practice and really focusing my mind, and my body.  I am working off of three hours of sleep right now and this seems just the thing to help me unwind.  This should be fun, yeah?”

“Excellent.  You will feel so much more open and clear-headed after this session, the first of many as you incorporate these routines into your regular workout.”

“Well, I don’t know – to tell you the truth there’s a stunt we’re going to film soon and everyone I talked to recommended yoga to prep for it, so it was either do this video or pay for a lesson.”  This with a look on his face that said, “As if!”

Maggie, still smiling, faced the camera: “Namaste.”

Twenty minutes in, the viewer was starting to get the hang of inhaling into her back and exhaling her heart out to the world.  She kept having to turn to the screen to make sure her movements matched Maggie’s, and she noticed Chris’s arms started shaking as Maggie continued steadily onward.

“Now,” Maggie’s voice never changed pitch, “bend over at the waist, placing your hands flat on the mat if you can, or holding your shins if you cannot.”  She looked to the side.  “Or holding your thighs if you must.”

“Thanks,” Chris said.

Later, the viewer felt proud of herself as she was able to hold onto her twisted leg with her left hand while reaching for the sky with her right.

“Breathe in and lean back to look towards your outstretched hand – ” [CRASH] – “this is when you can place a block or a book at your back for support.”

“Cheers.”

Ten minutes later:

“Now, place your knees on top of your elbows – ”

“Oh come on!”  [CRASH]

The viewer hovered off the floor in a near-perfect Crane: “I can do something Chris Basilingworth can’t, hee-hee!”  [CRASH]  “Almost.”

During the cool-down phase:

“Leave your palms up to receive the infinite as you elongate your spine along the floor.  Breathe in and out fully, feeling it throughout your entire body – WAKE UP!”

Chris jumped up from the mat: “I’m coming!  Call ‘Action!’”  He ran into the ocean and started swimming to somewhere.

Maggie, after sitting up and staring after him for a few moments, turned back to the camera.  “We conclude with crossed legs, hands on knees or palms up, and breathing, always breathing… no, Mark, we are not doing this all over again!... Until next time, peace and happiness to you.”

The DVD having ended, the viewer finally understood why this title had been marked “Clearance.”