Candleroller: Part 3

Dear Far Far Away,

My daughters mean the world to me. Anastasia has her own two bedroom home paid for by the Kingdom's taxpayers, but seeing as she's 18 and a taxpayer herself (on occasions), she practically owns it. Drizella is 17 and has applied for social housing in the hope of emulating her smart and successful sister.

We love ornithology and regularly go out looking for the newest winged varieties. It's very popular in the Kingdom now - at least, this was the conclusion that I drew when I spoke to Mrs. Pecker the other day and she informed me that all of her husband's chickens had been stolen. This crime has been reported all over town and because it's written in every newspaper one might say that the bird is the word.

That other toe-rag that lives with us, Candleroller, is not my blood relative so I never invited her to join the fish and chip shop that I set up with my girls. As a result, her skin hasn't benefited from the medicinal effects of having olive oil evaporate through your skin. I'm not cruel though, so I set her up on a non-paying contract to wash and clean the floors of the house in exchange for one of the most private rooms in the house.

I have a busy day ahead – I've got to help my girls find the man of their dreams. Despite checking the singles adverts in the newspaper, I couldn't find any rich, gullible airheads who could father my daughter's children. He needn't stick around – that's what child benefit is for. My search is starting to look fruitless - let's hope that we receive a letter from someone desperate for a wife.



1 comment:

Rob Z Tobor said...

I need to brush up on my knowledge of fairytales, I can see these letters are going to reveal an interesting backdrop to them.

I may need to dig out a bit of Grimm as bedtime reading. . . .