The Apple Princess and the Septet of Tiny People: Part 8

Dear Far Far Away,

I have a cold. I mean, yes, I always have a cold, but this time its something completely different. I think I'm allergic to the new girl.

I was talking to Grumpy yesterday and he was explaining his dislike for, well, everything but Snow in particular - and I'm beginning to see his point. I don't mind that everything is tidy now, because I can finally find all of my handkerchiefs, and those that I've used actually get washed once in a while.

I think I'm allergic to her smell though. She sprays the most awful perfume, some strong-scented rubbish that she somehow smuggled out of the Kingdom. It's made by some unsuccessful singer that is now married to a football player and apparently its all the rage back there.

It stinks! She doesn't even have a clue what's in it, but I read the small print on the bottle. It turns out that the singer just bottled her own stage sweat and claimed it kept the wearer 'fairest of them all'. It's disgusting. Give me a musky woman without these fake odours any day.

Hope my cold clears up tomorrow, but don't hold your breath.



Rest assured, this letter has been fully decontaminated.


Just Rukea said...

brilliant! ... that unsuccessful singer mmm lol

Rob Z Tobor said...

I got all confused at the unsuccessful singer, assuming it was Barry Manilow.

I have reason to believe this may be wrong, but once you get an idea in your head it can be hard to shift.

I do wonder what sneezy would be called if he does not sneeze any longer. He would be a man with no name like Clint Eastwood in the spaghetti westerns