The Return of Rumpelstiltskin

A much brighter tale this time. A parody of the classic fairy tale ‘Rumplestiltskin’ based on the premise of what might happen if Rumpelstiltskin came back. (And, with Maleficent currently out at the cinemas, quite a topical one.)

 The Return of Rumpelstiltskin

The large castle door creaked open and Princess Nadine slipped through. She pushed the door shut with a click and, in that instant, lights flashed on everywhere. The princess whirled round to find her parents, King Sebastian and Queen Magda, standing in the hallway staring straight at her.

“What time do you call this?” the queen asked.

“Uh, I don’t know.” Princess Nadine answered, “I lost my watch.” The queen sighed.

“Didn’t you think we’d be worried?” she said.

“Yeah,” Nadine said, “So I thought I’d come home after you’d gone to bed. Then you wouldn’t be worrying about me.” Both her parents sighed, exasperatedly. King Sebastian turned to his wife.

“We should have let that stupid, little dwarf take her.” He said, under his breath.

“You what?” Princess Nadine said. The king turned and began to slowly walk away. The queen looked back at her daughter.

“What did he mean by that?” the princess asked.

“Sit down.” The queen said, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Can I get a drink first?” Nadine asked.

“Ok.” The princess marched over to the drinks cabinet and pulled out a couple of bottles of Bacardi Breezer before settling herself in a plush armchair. The queen began her tale.

“It all happened a few years before you were born. I was a humble miller’s daughter but my father claimed that I could spin straw into gold.”

“I always said Grandpa was crazy.”

“Well, he couldn’t help it.” Queen Magda explained, “He had Alzheimer’s. Anyway, the king, your father, heard about this and said that if I turned a roomful of straw into gold then I would be his queen. If not, then I would suffer the consequences.”

“So dad’s always been an old grouch, then.” The princess said.

“Don’t talk about your father like that.” Queen Magda said, “So there I was, stuck in a cold tower, facing certain death in the morning, when this little, old, crooked dwarf pops out of nowhere and says he’ll spin the straw into gold if I promise to give him my first-born child.”

“Me.” Princess Nadine said.

“Yes.” The queen said, “Anyway, by this time I was really panicking so I agree.”

“Oh, gee. Thanks, mum.”

“Well, it was either that or get killed in the morning.” Queen Magda explained, “So, anyhow, he spins the gold, I marry the king and, after a few years, we have you.”

“The highlight of your life.” The princess said.

“Yes.” The queen said, unconvincingly, “Then the dwarf turns up and demands that I hand you over to him. I start crying and moaning and complaining and he finally agreed that, if I could guess his name in three days, I could keep you. On the third day I correctly guessed ‘Rumpelstiltskin’. He had a massive temper tantrum and stamped straight through the floor. We haven’t seen him since.”

“And good riddance too, I would have thought.” Princess Nadine said.

“Mmm.” The queen said. An idea struck the princess.

“Mother.” She said.

“Yes?” the queen answered.

“Which tower were you locked up in, exactly?”

“The North Tower.” Queen Magda answered, “On the top floor.” Princess Nadine jumped up and quickly left the room.

It didn’t take her long to find the key to the room on the top floor of the North Tower and fifty bales of straw. She then positioned herself in the middle of the room, on a three legged stool, and cried out in a deeply, sardonic tone,

“Oh me. Oh my. What am I to do? I have all this straw to turn into gold by tomorrow and if I do not then I shall be punished most severely. Oh, dear me.” There was a puff of swirly green smoke in the corner of the room. A crooked, little, old man appeared out of nowhere. He was covered in bandages, his left foot was bound in plaster and he was supported by a pair of crutches.

“Well,” the princess said, “I can see why you’re called Rumpel-stilt-skin.”

“Ha-flippin’-ha.” said the bad-tempered dwarf, “Everybody’s a comedian. All I can say is thank gawd for the National Elf Service. So you want all this straw turned into gold by tomorrow morning?”

“Ooh, yes please, Mr. Stiltskin.” Princess Nadine said, very sarcastically.

“Well, it’s gonna cost.” Rumpelstiltskin said, “What can you give me?”

“I can give you my precious silver bracelets.” The princess said.

“Deal.” The dwarf said and he set to work.

By morning, all the straw had been spun into gold.

“Now,” Rumpelstiltskin said, “Hand over the bracelets.”

“Ok.” The princess said, “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” Rumpelstiltskin obeyed. There was a click and the dwarf opened his eyes to find himself caught in a pair of handcuffs.

“Sergeant!” the princess called. The door of the tower room burst open and a large surly-looking policeman sprang inside. He grabbed the dwarf by the shoulder and said in a deep, gruff tone,

“Mr. Stiltskin, you are under arrest for attempted abduction and blackmail.”

“Hey! Hey!” Rumpelstiltskin said, “You mean this was all a trap?”

“Yep.” Princess Nadine said, “And it was all my idea.”

“You scheming little cow!”

“Ooh!” Princess Nadine said, “Sticks and stones.”

“But,” Rumpelstiltskin said, “But, what about the gold?”

“Yes,” the princess said, turning to look at the small fortune that was spread around the room. “That’ll come in very useful. My pocket money’s been stopped and there are some things a girl’s just got to have. Gucci shirts, Adidas trousers, Armani jacket, you know – the usual.” The dwarf was led away to a small, dark, dank cell to await his trial.

The wait was three months long and the trial itself was a week as Rumpelstiltskin refused to give evidence and all he ever said was,

“I didn’t do it.” The jury was out for an hour and when they returned, and delivered a verdict of ‘Guilty’, the dwarf went into a terrible rage – screaming and stamping and kicking and yelling.

“Not guilty! Not guilty! Not guilty!” While all this commotion was going on, the floor beneath Rumpelstiltskin was becoming weaker and weaker from the hammering it was receiving. Then, finally, with one last stomp, it gave way and the dwarf plummeted downwards.

“Not guil-teeeeeeee…”

“Oh no!” Princess Nadine said, “There he goes again.”