A Reunion

Meanwhile, Prince was in despair without his midnight princess. He purchased a trusty steed, in black, of course, and took off for the tower.

 Punz, however, had manned up. This, of course, is an extremely sexist expression that she herself wouldn't have approved of, but nevertheless, she had toughened up. She had even realised that her behaviour was infantile and had come to value and respect her nanny. She even came to pity her stepmother and made plans to visit her grave upon sweet release.

 She was working on her novel, 'Up in the Clouds' when Prince arrived on his gallant steed.

 "Punz, Punz, let down your dreadlocks," he called. She had succumbed to every gothic fashion trend decided that the stereotype that only those of African or Caribbean descent should wear dreadlocks would not put her off in the slightest. The dreadlocks had sped up her hair growth, but in any case drenching her hair in copious amounts of mail order hair potion had made it grow to an unnatural length and as strong as old rope. Her hair easily surpassed 15m, the height of the tower.

 Without hesitation, she severed her dreadlocks to shoulder length before tying it to the bedpost and flinging the end out of the window. Punz firmly believed women didn't need long hair to be feminine. She was also not a fool, and she knew that letting Prince climb he hair while it was still attached to her head was an idiotic thing to do, and she would probably fall to her death like her poor stepmother.

 Prince was not a fool, so he had come prepared with full protective gear, including a helmet and a crash mat in the unlikely event that he did fall. He climbed steadily, hand over hand, his hiker's boots finding purchase on the wall and his hitherto unused rock climbing skills proving infinitely useful.

 He vaulted over the windowsill and met his love. To be honest, he was slightly disappointed. From all the way down n the ground, she had looked very different. Prince knew he was short sighted and needed to visit his optician to discuss the matter, but this was ridiculous. She had an acne problem, sunshine yellow teeth and gross amounts of body hair. Her mousy brown roots were showing for about an inch and she was, well, on the plumper side of buxom.

 His 'sweetheart' rushed across the room to meet him and her ripe body odour and foul breath caused him to reel back in dismay. Punz wilted but then drew herself up to her full, if still diminutive, height.

 "Don't you know that beauty is only skin deep?" she chastised him. "I thought you fell in love with me for my writing and my mind, not for my body. Don't objectify me!"

 Prince looked at her like she was crazy, and with the air of a man readying himself to leave made for the window.

"I'm sorry babe but there's a limit. Looking at you makes me feel sick. And I never looked at your letters; I was more interested in the lingerie."

 Punz was aghast and felt violated by his eyes roving over her. Prince, on the other hand was thoroughly put out. There was no way the lacy thong he had stashed under his pillow would fit around those hips and he'd been…


 He made a half-embarrassed movement towards the window and gave a consolatory kiss in true front man style. In answer to this, Punz dealt him a stunning blow around the face that still glowed red when he'd rode all the way through the village and back to his shack.

 Punz tossed herself onto her bed and cried for a while, a long while. Then she got off her bed, wiped her eyes and got over herself and more importantly, him. She wouldn't let some shallow chauvinist ruin her life forever, even if he was doubtless spreading the story around the entire village.

The End

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