Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away lived a young woman named Barbella. Barbella lived in a huge mansion with her wicked stepmother and two wicked stepsisters. Despite being family, they made Barbella work like a servant for them.

  She cleaned all over the house every day, upstairs, downstairs. She weeded the garden and cleaned the gutters. She washed the windows and mended their clothes. She even cooked all the food for them, not that she was allowed to eat much of it. She survived mostly on the little scraps they left her and bread and water. While she worked all day every day, her family lazed about doing nothing. Some days her Stepmother didn’t move at all and she forced Barbella to feed her in bed.

  Barbella and her Stepfamily couldn’t be more different. She was tall and lanky and they were short and squat. They were fat like overstuffed pigeons ready to explode and she was thin as a rake, nothing but bones. They were loud, boisterous and demanding, and a lifetime of living with and serving them had left poor Barbella timid and downtrodden. Their personalities and different lifestyles also showed on their faces, with Barbella having plain, gaunt features, and her stepsister’s puffed cheeks (like a squirrel with fresh acorns) being pockmarked by spots from all the oily food they ate. Zits so large and gross no amount of make-up could hide it.

  One day news arrived in the form of a letter. The King and Queen were hosting a ball. It was time for the Crown Prince to get married and the ball was to serve as a way to introduce him to potential brides. So letters were sent out to all the houses of the well-to-do families inviting them and their eligible daughters to the ball. “A fair maiden must be chosen for the prince”, it said.

  The news sent Barbella’s stepmother into a complete fluther. One of her Daughters had to be chosen. That way she would be the mother of a princess! Practically a queen in all but name. Her daughters would need new outfits, dresses and shoes and jewels to set them apart from the rest of the herd. Dresses of beautiful shades were quickly purchased from a boutique and delivered to the mansion for her daughters to try on. They could not even begin to squeeze into them. No amount of huffing or puffing could do it. It wasn’t even the vastly different sizes, the months of lazing about in their home had robbed them of all their energy. They couldn’t move their body enough to get close to wearing the dresses.

  “Barbieeee!!!!” her stepmother shrilly cried, calling out for Barbella using her hated “pet name” for her.

  “Barbieeeeee!!!!!!!” she cried out again, unhappy at the speed with which she was being attended.

  “Yes, mother.” Barbella answered, finally arriving at where her stepmother stood, hands on hips as she beheld the latest ragged attempt at a fitting for her daughters.

  “Be a dear and fix this!” her Stepmother demanded waving her hand at the silken remnants of destroyed dresses. “Your sisters must be perfect for the ball, and you seem to be the only one that can dress them right.”

  “Of course Mother” Barbella said bowing low to her stepmother as she waddled imperiously out of the room.

  Barbella worked tirelessly day and night to get the dresses for her stepsisters ready. Working on the dresses made doing all the rest of her jobs much harder. She toiled away without complaint, and often without sleep until the dresses were ready. Soon, the day of the ball arrived. Exhausted, Barbella exited the fitting room to her waiting stepmother. It had been a struggle and she was tired, but her stepsisters had been dressed. An accomplishment indeed, considering their sizes changed twice while she was making the dresses.

  “Come on out dears and let Momma take a look at her precious dumplings” Barbella’s stepmother called, tapping her foot with impatience for her children to display themselves.

  Together Barbella’s stepsisters exited the dressing room and entered the hall. They were dressed top to bottom in the finest jewels draped around Barbella’s newly fashioned dresses. They looked like a pair of glittering circus tents, but Barbella had done her best with the time and materials and it showed.

  “Oh my pretties, you look so Beautiful! Mommas gonna cry!” cooed Barbella’s stepmother.

  “I look so good. The prince is gonna be mine. I am going to be the best princess the kingdom has ever seen!” said the elder stepsister with flourish.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I am going to be the princess. Don’t worry when I’m queen, I’ll have a place for you in my castle.” her younger sibling replied, smirking.

  “Em n-now that you’re dressed, I’m going to get my dress ready.” said Barbella as she moved to go into the dressing room.

  “Why are you getting your dress ready, Barbie? You don’t really think you’re going to the ball do you?” scoffed the elder sister.

  “What are you talking about, Barbie! How could we let someone as ugly and smelly as you near the ball? If the prince found out, I’d never be queen.” chimed in the younger sister.

  “That’s right. Are you trying to steal our dreams from us, Barbie?” yelled the elder sibling.

  “Why are you trying to ruin our lives after all we do for you?” cried the younger sibling.

  “N-no, I would n-ever. It’s just, the invitation was for all of us, so I thought that I..” Barbella explained nervously, shaking like a leaf.

  “Girls girls. Barbie, is right, she was invited the same as you. To think she even has a dress prepared. Unfortunately Barbie, Momma needs someone to watch the house. The prince isn’t going to pick you anyway, so leave the ball to your sisters who have a chance at being picked. You just mind the house, pet.” interjected Barbella’s stepmother with a saccharine sweetness.

  “O-of course, Mother.” answered Barbella, as what little energy she had left drained out of her.

  “Thank you Barbie. I’m sorry you got all your hopes uo like that, but it’s what you get for getting ahead of yourself. You wouldn't have thought you were going to the ball if you’d simply left the thinking to me, like I told you to. You’re not suited for it. Stick to what your good at, like chores. Ok?” finished Barbella’s stepmother.

  “Of course mother. Sorry mother.” answered Barbella lifelessly.

  With the matter of who would be attending the ball settled, Barbella’s stepfamily set off in their carriage to the castle. Meanwhile, at home in the mansion, Barbella started the long process of cleaning up after the dressing. As she listlessly put away stools and ribbons and boxes for jewels. She sighed. Not for the time she was wondering about her life and how it got to this. How she ended up as a slave to her stepfamily.

  Gazing out the window at the castle lit up in the distance of the setting sun, Barbella said, “I wish it could be different. I wish it could all be different.”

  “Well why can’t it?” replied a gruff voice from behind her.

  Startled Barbella turned around to see a small being floating in mid air. Barbella knew what this was. She had read enough fairy-tales in her free time to know immediately who was floating in front of her. Her wish had finally come true. Everything was going to be different!

  “A-are you my fairy godmother?” she asked the creature floating on a pair of butterfly wings.

  “Nah kid, don’t be crazy. I’m your fairy Musclemother!” replied the fairy with gusto.”But you can call me Rocco.”

  Rocco looked like a stout muscular man in a white tank-top and shorts. His face and hair had the unkempt greasy look of a man who shaves and washes when he has to rather than when he needs to. If it wasn't for the giant pair of butterfly wings and the fact he was floating Barbella would have never believed he was a fairy. In fact, if she had met Rocco on the street, she would have certainly crossed the road to avoid being near him. He seemed “unsavoury” as her stepmother would have haughtily put it.

  Shaking her head out of the slight stupor his appearance had caused, she found herself puzzling over what he’d said instead.

  “What’s a fairy Musclemother?” asked Barbella out loud, confusion removing the usual shake from her voice.

  “Its like a fairy godmother but we don’t do quick fixes.” replied Rocco in his gruff tone.

  “Don’t do quick fixes?” asked Barbella, even more confused than ever before.

  “Listen kid, I heard your wish. You want everything to be different. Well I got news for you honey, magic’s got a time limit. If you want everything to change for you, and I mean really change, then the first thing we gotta change is you. Real change comes from within, not from a magic wand. There ain’t no quick fixes. Now, are you ready to start some training?” said Rocco, finishing with a gusto filled flex of his arms.

  “T-training? Why would I need to train? If real change starts from within, shouldn’t we be working on my personality?” asked Barbella, seeing some obvious flaws in Rocco’s plan.

  “Personality huh? Can I ask you a question, kid?”

  “O-of course.”

  “Do you wanna be well liked and happy?”

  “Y-yeah.”

  “Ok good. Now do you know what attracts other people?”

  “Uhhhhh”

  “Confidence. Do you know what kind of people tend to be very confident? Fit people. Do you know what fit people have a lot of? Muscles. And where do you get muscles?”

  “T-training?”

  “Nice job kid. You got it in one. So we train to build the body, and the body will build the spirit. Bada bing bada boom, whole new you, whole new life. Whole new world. Simple.”

  “O-ok. I’ll do it. I want to change. I want to be different to the me right now”

  “Good job kid. All right, let's get started.”

  “W-wait.”

  “What now kid?”

  Taking a big deep breath, Barbella turned to Rocco and looked him dead in the eye. If she was going to change, she needed to start right here. She needed to begin right now.

  “M-my name isn’t kid. It’s Barbella.” she said, with hands balled into fists as though she was gonna have to fight. It had taken all her courage to say it, but she’d done it.

  “Hah. Alright. Barbella, have it your way.” Rocco said with a big grin. “But Barbella’s got a lot of syllables. It’s more than a mouthful. You got a nickname or something I can call you instead?”

  “N-NO” Barbella yelled. She wasn’t going back. She had a nickname that her stepmother called her, and she hated it.

  “Ok ok. No need to yell. I got it kid, how about ‘Babs’. Simple easy one syllable. New you, new name. Bada bing. Bada boom.”

  “B-babs. …. I like it. Ok, you can call me Babs.” Barbella said, smiling for the first time in a long time.

  “Alright then Babs. Now let's get started with your training. And girl, do you need a lot of it. You look like kindling someone put a dress over. What do you even eat to be this skinny? Never mind, I don’t gotta know. Important thing is, you need protein. Lots of it. A whole cow a day, if you can.. Here take this.” Rocco said, and with poof a soft powder appeared and flowed into Barbella’s hand.

  “What’s this? Is this Fairy dust? It’s not really sparkly.” she said, observing the fine powder in her hands.

  “Babs don’t be ridiculous. How is fairy dust gonna help you build muscle. It’s protein powder. Mix it with water and drink it. There are no quick fixes when it comes to building getting strong. Muscles aren’t given, they’re earned. And you are gonna earn the baddest guns there’s ever been. Now chug it quickly and get ready for the montage.”

  “M-montage?”

  “Yeah, the montage. Babs, it takes months of effort to get ripped like me, and the ball is tonight. You were planning on going right?”

  “Y-yeah. I’d love to go. How does this montage work. I thought you said there were no quick fixes. ”

  “This isn't a quick fix, Babs. In the montage, you’ll train for months but outside of the montage, all people will see are a couple of quick moments of you going from this puff of air, into a mighty hurricane. For you it’ll feel like forever. For everyone else, 2-3 minutes max. Really useful for getting buff when you’re under time pressure. The montage itself may be magic, but the results and the effort will be real. Are you ready for the toughest time of your life.”

  “I-I’m. Ready.”

  “You don’t seem ready. I asked, `Are you ready?’”

  “I’m ready.”

  “You don’t sound ready. Say it louder Babs, I can’t hear the readiness.”

  “I’M READY!”

  “Yeah, that’s the spirit. Ok let's do this.”

  With that said, they entered the montage and began what was for Babs months of gruelling exercise. She ran up hills and down them, in the rain, in the snow and in the sun. She lifted heavier and heavier weights. Squats, back press, deadlift, pull ups. If it counted as exercise, she did it. Months of torment passed to the sounds of Rocco’s encouragement, and a strange beat that lay almost hidden in the background but got stronger as the weeks went by.

  Eventually Barbella couldn’t take it and called it out to Rocco.

  “What is this strange music I’m hearing, in the background? Is there a band nearby? It’s really getting me pumped” said Barbella who was really getting into the groove of the sounds she was hearing from the middle distance.

  “Ah, don’t worry about that. That’s just your theme” said Rocco brushing the discussion aside as he silently motioned Barbella to lower her squat further down.

  “M-my theme?” asked Barbella after a few more reps as confused as she was tired.

  “Babs, didn’t I just say ‘don’t worry about it’.? Don’t worry about it. If you have time to talk, you have time to give me 10 more reps!” yelled Rocco. Barbella regretted opening her mouth as she gritted her teeth and continued to lift.

  Eventually, all things, even montages have to end. So, with a final crescendo of her musical theme that faded into silence as they returned to the hallway that they had just left.

  “It feels so long since I was last here. How long has it been, fairy?” asked Barbella.

  “About 5 minutes.” replied Rocco as he began to fly around the hall searching for something.

  “But, that can’t be! I’ve been training for what feels like months.” said Barbella.

  “Beauty of the montage kid. Maximum effort. Minimum time. Boom. Magic.” replied Rocco as he turned to her with a big grin holding a dress in his hands.

  “Throw this on, kid. I don’t think your old clothes will fit you too well.” said Rocco as he tossed a ragged old smock he had found. “Your body’s a bit too toned for your clothes when you were nothing but bones.”

  As she donned the smock Barbella realised that Rocco was right. In the time she was gone her body had more than firmed up. Where before she was barely more than bone now she had bulging muscles. More than that, her face that once had the deathly pallor of neglect now had a nice healthy tone. Even her hair had more of a sheen to it. She felt better than she ever had. More than that, she felt more confident than she ever had. She looked around the house she had been trapped in and she wondered why she put up with all of this. She really did deserve better.

  “Ey Babs. Less selfy-reflecty more smocky weary. Capisce?” interrupted Rocco, waiting for her impatiently.

  Barbella came to her senses and finished putting on the dingy smock.

  “Why do I have to wear this?” Barbella asked dejectedly. Her no found confidence wavering slightly at the feel of the old clothing.

  “This is why. Bada Bing. Bada Boom” said Rocco.

  On his words there was a sudden flash of light around Barbella. With the sound of a small trumpet her smock had changed. It had transformed from a disgusting old work outfit into a beautiful shimmering blue dress. It was all sparkles and frills. It was like everything Barbella had always dreamed of wearing.

  “This is wonderful. I look and feel beautiful.” said Barbella admiring the dress in the mirror.

  “Yeah, it's a peach alright. Don’t get too attached though. I made it with magic, and that’s got a time limit, remember? Come 12 bells, Bada Boom Bada Bing. Back to the old thing!” said Rocco with a grin. ”Now come on. Let’s get you to the ball.”

  Finally feeling properly dressed for the ball, Barbella moved outside into the cool evening air. She looked around and groaned when she realised there were no carriages. Her stepmother and stepsisters must have taken them. They each needed a separate carriage after all. Rocco shook his head with exasperation when he saw Barbella’s dejection.

  “Did you forget everything you’ve been through so far today? I swear I think all your muscles came at the cost of your brain.” said Rocco with a hint of frustration in his voice. “I already have the solution to this. Or did you forget about the magic already?”

  Barbella looked at Rocco and blushed with embarrassment. She’d been so happy with all that had happened and then so dejected with the lack of a carriage that she’d forgotten about Rocco’s magic.

  With a snap of his fingers, a beautiful white carriage appeared. It had gold finishing on the doors and beautiful decorated windows. It was a work of art. There was a problem however, that Barbella noticed rather quickly.

  “Where are the horses?” asked Barbella curiously. “We need horses to pull the carriage.”

  Rocco smiled at Barbella. His eyes held an evil glint.

  “Ey Babs. What are you talkin’ about? I’m lookin’ at the horse.” said Rocco as he stared straight at Barbella. “You’re pullin’ the carriage kid.”

  “W-what?” said Barbella, very confused at what Rocco had just said.

  “Babs, just consider it a test of your new athletic prowess. All those muscles you got ain’t for show are they? Plus way I see it, this way you won’t keep forgettin about the magic.” said Rocco smiling ear to ear. “Sometimes you gotta sweat the knowledge into em.”

  Barbella looked at Rocco and started to laugh. However the laughter swiftly faded away when she realised he was serious. Deadly serious. She gulped when she looked at the beautiful carriage once again. Suddenly all its decorations didn’t look so beautiful any more. All that gold and glass was just more weight she was going to have to drag.

  Barbella sighed and walked over and strapped on the human sized harness. There was no point delaying the inevitable. If she wanted to get to the ball before the magic wore off she’d best get started pulling the carriage now.

  As Barbella groaned and grunted with exertion she felt the carriage creak and then begin to move. She was in fact pulling the carriage. After the first half a mile it wasn’t even so bad. She even started to pick up speed. Soon she was all out running with the carriage flying along behind her. By the third mile, she found herself smiling as she galloped along at a steady pace. Her muscles bulged with every step along the path. So this was the freedom the string could enjoy.

  By the time she arrived at the entrance to the ball, the sweat was shining from her. She didn’t care however, feeling refreshed at the exercise. She left the carriage with an attendant at the ball’s entrance. As she showed her ticket to his colleague and entered the ball proper, she heard him huffing and puffing in the carriage's harness as he struggled valiantly to move it. She paid it no mind. Her mind was occupied by what her eyes were seeing. The ball was like everything she’d ever dreamed of.

  Inside the ball everything glittered. The walls and ceilings were covered in gold. The windows were beautiful crystal glass that scattered the candlelight in every direction. The buffet tables were groaning with food. They had all sorts of delicacies, from peacock stuffed with swan, to liger steak burgers. They even had golden apples, which were solid chocolate apples, encrusted in honeycomb and slathered in honey. The kind of food to make your tongue happy and dentists furious. Around these tables she could see big wig nobles chatting to each other while enjoying the festivities. She even noticed in the corner that her step-sisters had cornered the market on the delicious golden apples on one table. No one else could even get near lest a hand get accidentally bitten off in the process. What really stood out to Barbella though was the dance floor.

  Right in the centre of the room on a vast marble plinth was the dance-floor. On it couples young and old were smiling and laughing as they danced the night away. The music was being provided by a full orchestra hidden above in the balcony. They were playing all sorts of incredible romantic classics. Clearly they were trying to set a mood.

  As she strode powerfully into the room Barbella felt the stares of people as heads turned to follow her path. She was standing out in a way she never had before. She was more nervous then she had ever been in her life, but she swallowed those nerves and kept moving. She was a whole new Barbella and she was gonna make her mark here tonight, by having the time of her life! But first, some food. She hadn’t eaten before she’d left, and she’d pulled a carriage all the way here. In short, she was starving.

  As she made her decision on where to go (the roast boar and beans looked protein heavy), she realised that she had been moving this entire time. She looked around as she exited her nerve induced stupor and realised two things immediately. From the cool feel of the marble beneath her and the close proximity of all the dancers, she realised she had strode right onto the dance floor. She also realised, from the fact she could feel the marble beneath her, that she was completely barefoot. She had forgotten to wear shoes before she’d left and Rocco hadn’t given her any either. Evidently magic didn’t extend to footwear.

  As she gazed around her clearly unsettled by the startling revelations a man approached her. He was probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His black hair was combed back and slicked down. His jawline was sharp, but welcoming. His beautiful green eyes spoke of a man with stories to tell. His beautiful pursed lips seemed the kind to speak only the kindest words. Barbella thought he was perfect in every way.

  As the man stopped in front of Barbella she noticed one final fact about him, not apparent when he was further away. The top of his head reached her shoulder. She wasn’t sure if she was just extremely tall, or he was just quite short, or both. Regardless, there was a significant difference at play.

  Looking up at her, the man smiled and nodded his head slightly.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I assure you if we had, I’d never forget it.” said the man smoothly, “Might I have my lady’s name?”

  As he spoke Barbellla (and several onlookers) nearly swooned. His voice was beautiful. Like someone had taken an angel's lyre and jammed it into a man’s throat.

  Looking at the man of her dreams, Barbella took a deep breath and steadied herself. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she reopened them, any last trace of hesitation she’d harboured was gone. Now was her moment. It was her chance at last, and she wouldn’t pass it up.

  “My name is Barbella, kind Sir.” she replied coolly. “Though you may call me Babs. How may I address you?”

  The man looked up into her eyes with a shocked expression. Swiftly it turned into a bemused smile and then a chuckle.

  “My Dear… Babs. I apologise for not leading with my own name” he said with some aplomb. “I am Francis, the prince of this kingdom.”

  “Though you may call me Frank” he finished quietly as close to her ear as his stature could allow.

  Barbella was pole-axed. This beauty incarnate was the Prince? This was completely unexpected. She felt her new will to be her own person begin to crumble as panic set in. Was he offended? Was asking a Prince to call her Babs a crime like treason? Was she going to be executed?

  She pushed those thoughts from her mind as she tensed her brain and all of her muscles at once. She had come too far to let such negative thoughts ruin everything. Looking down at the prince she proffered him her hand.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me to dance, your highness?” asked Barbella, as coyly as she could.

  The prince looked at her slightly astonished before smiling and proffering her his hand. Her face reddened slightly as she took it and moved with him into the centre of the dance floor. Clasping each other's hands as they begin to sway in time to the music, Barbella noticed the anguished face of the prince. Concerned, she checked to see what was troubling him only to swiftly realise, that in her excitement, she had begun to accidentally crush his hand with her superior grip strength. Flustered, she blushed as he loosened her iron grip. He was a prince, not a dumbbell she reminded herself. His squishiness, she decided, was just another charm point.

  As they swayed in time to the music the prince began to put in more complicated footwork. The prince would sashay and swirl, traipsing around the floor like he was floating on a cloud. On the other foot, Barbella, who had had no formal dancing training, stumbled around like a drunken bull attempting to stomp an ant. They were quite mismatched. As Barbella watched the prince’s foot about to be crushed again under one of her human hooves, she decided now was the time for improvisation. With a swift tense of her upper body she lifted the prince mid dance. Now he was really floating above the floor, supported only by Barbella’s mighty strength.

  She twirled him around like a mother dancing with her child. He smiled as they marched around the dance floor. Clearly the Prince didn’t mind being treated like a child’s doll, though the onlookers were somewhat more shocked to see their future King used in such a way. Smiling into each other's faces they drew closer and closer until they could feel each other's breaths. The prince leaned in towards Barbella and closed his eyes.

  “He isn’t! He couldn’t be! What should I do?” thought Barbella in a panic, realising what the Prince’s intentions were. “I can’t kiss the Prince. He needs to do something like that only with someone he loves!” she decided out of more embarrassment than concern for the Prince’s modesty.

  Right before the Prince could plant a kiss on Barbella’s lips, she began to spin. Faster and faster she spun, twirling in the same spot like a human tornado. With her arm strength she held the startled prince out only by her hands as his legs began to lift into the air due to the speed. He had gone quite quickly from floating into full on flying, perfectly horizontal with the ground. Just over 6 feet in the air of course. The shock on the Prince’s face soon turned to joy as he was spun around vigorously. His arms felt like they were about to come off, but he was enjoying the sensation of flying nonetheless. The gathered crowd were far less enthused and looked on, shocked at what they were seeing. Several attendants attempted to intervene, only to be hit in the face by an accidental high speed royal kick. The shock of what was happening to both the prince and the attendants swiftly turned to horror however at what happened next. Unfortunately, Barbella was unconsciously modelling her swinging Prince style on a rather different sport: The Hammer Throw. Even more unfortunately, the final object of the hammer throw involves letting go of the hammer( or Prince), which is exactly what she did. Reflexively Barbella grabbed the Prince’s hand the moment he left her grip, but it was too late. The Prince was held in her grip by the barest of margins. Soon he began to slip out.

  As the prince slipped out of her hand mid dance she reached out and frantically grabbed his hand to prevent him from being flung into the air and out of a window. With a dexterous spin and flick of her wrists, she had him resting on her shoulders and began to squat him. The nerves of nearly sending a Prince to his doom at 500 miles an hour had shaken Barbella. Indeed, it had shaken her so much that she had reverted to her training and was treating the prince as though he were a set of weights. Soon she traversed from the squat to the deadlift. It was as though he had transformed from Prince to exercise equipment. From the deadlift she traversed through to an arm curl. While everyone else was doing dance routines, Barbella was doing an exercise routine.

  Suddenly, right as she curled the Prince towards her for the twentieth rep, she heard bells toll in the distance. Twelve bells. It had turned midnight while she wasn’t paying attention. With a sudden gasp and shout, she dropped the prince and ran straight out of the ball. No one tried to stop her, as the Prince had landed rather awkwardly on his face and everyone rushed to help him.

  Barbella, in tears that her night had ended so abruptly, ran out of the ball and sprinted all the way home. She was so dejected she never looked back at the prince being helped to his feet. If she had, she may have noticed that while his nose was bleeding and his head spinning his eyes had never left her for a second. The hand that wasn’t trying to stem blood flow was reaching out towards her as she disappeared into the distance.

  Barbella arrived home minutes later. It seems not having to pull a carriage had really improved her speed. That and the fear of being arrested for attempted regicide. She burst through the front door in a flurry of tears and ran up stairs and dove straight onto her bed crying. Unfortunately, she had failed to take into account her new found strength and burst through the door literally. Leaving nothing but an empty door frame and splinters behind her when she charged up to her room and promptly destroyed her bed as well. It was accustomed to a much frailer Barbella. One that didn’t dive onto a bed like someone completing a face first long jump.

  As she lay there, sobbing, in the wreckage of her own bed, Barbella heard a popping noise behind her. Lifting up her face from her now soaked covers, she turned her bleary eyes to a very uncomfortable looking Rocco.

  “Hey Babs. How you doin?” he started, “Well actually I can see how you doin. You doin’ bad. But you gotta cheer up kid. This is just the start. You got a whole life ahead of you, and it all started today.”

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  Barbella didn’t look very convinced, as Rocco continued. “Sure, you nearly killed the Prince. And sure, you had to run outta the ball like yo ass was on fire cause of the magic. And sure, you’re after destroying your bed and the door to your house.”

  Barbella was now about to start crying again, but Rocco powered on obliviously. “So it’s not all peachy at the moment. That’s ok. This was just day one of however many. It’s always gonna hit the hardest. Like when you first started training and you wanted to give up? You were running so hard that all your muscles seized up and you had to walk like someone nailed planks of wood to your legs? Or the first time you did a squat and your shorts ripped, and your butt was showin? Or when you dropped that dumbbell on your toe, and you fell over and knocked over all the weights like it was a big set of dominoes?”

  Barbella was now glowing bright red with embarrassment, but she wasn’t crying. Rocco raised his voice as he neared the climax of his speech.

  “You got through all that. And do you wanna know why? It’s simple. You got heart kid, and that’s what’s gonna carry you through. You’re gonna be fine. Just take it one fight at a time, and don’t be afraid to hit em right in the Good Time Charlies! Ok Kid?”

  Barbella stared at Rocco for a long moment. She let everything he said wash over her. Then with a sudden start, she buried her head back into her bed and started to laugh. Not a small chuckle either, but great big guffaws. A peal of laughter so rich and loud, the remains of the bed couldn’t quite stifle it.

  When she had calmed down, she looked up at Rocco with a smile. She was still giggling a small bit, but it was mostly suppressed.

  “Thank you Rocco. You’re absolutely right.” Barbella said, still with a huge smile on her lips. “If I can look back on all those mistakes with a smile now. Surely I can do the same for this day. I’ve finally made it to the starting line and I’ve only just started the race. It isn’t over.”

  Rocco looked at her and nodded. His face showed the deep sense of pride he was feeling. This wasn’t the same quivering leaf he’d found earlier today. No. She was a tree with roots now. Only a sapling, but one that was going to fall to even a hurricane.

  “Get some rest kid. Day two is a big day too.” Rocco said with a wink.

  “Thanks Rocco. Goodnight” Barbella yawned back, before collapsing into her former bed and immediately falling asleep.

  Barbella’s gentle snoozes were echoing throughout the house, when some other people came to the remains of the door. It wasn’t guards from the palace come to take her away, or even a local wrestling outfit looking to recruit her. In fact, it was her Stepmother and two stepsisters, returning from the ball.

  They arrived at the door in a somewhat bad mood. The ball had not been the success they had hoped for. Sure, the food was delicious. They’d all had their fill of sweet and savoury. But the romantic aspect had been a dismal failure. Not being able to move at pace, let alone to any kind of beat had hampered the two sisters' attempts at stunning on the dancefloor. Similarly, while they had managed to speak to the prince, it was only for a greeting at the beginning. An attempt by their mother to ingratiate them with his highness had failed rather miserably. Right before she could get a real conversation going he was called away to meet other guests. In the end, the assault on him by a hooligan had killed any further chances, as well as the mood of the ball. It had ended rather shortly after the prince was rushed away to the royal physician.

  Grumbling to her children about the wasted opportunity, Barbella’s stepmother was shocked when she returned home. What had once been an orderly well kept entrance was no more. Instead it was a carnage of splinters and shrapnel. Her lovely mansion's lovely door reduced to not so lovely kindling!

  What on earth had happened? Perhaps the thug who attacked the prince had also come here? The thought alone horrified Barbella’s stepmother. If someone would do this to a door, what would they do to the rest of the house? What of her jewels and finery? Her nice furniture and fancy books? If they were destroyed, what would she do? What would the neighbours think?

  As quickly as her legs could carry her, she entered the house. She was followed at a more sedate pace by her children. Inside, they looked around and found nothing out of the ordinary. The jewels were fine. The furnishings were all there. Her books were untouched. All was well, except Barbella wasn’t there to greet them.

  “Hmmmmm. I can’t believe Barbie wouldn’t wait up for us. And the door…..”, said Barbella’s stepmother, while she slowly shook her head in concern. ”I’ll have to have words with her about her attitude and the door tomorrow. That girl is such a problem, I swear….”

  Having completed her checks and with the sun long since set, Barbella’s stepfamily headed to their bedrooms to sleep and dream of handsome princes covered in chocolate.

  The next morning, Barbella woke up late. Normally she woke up at 5:15am sharp, to get all her chores done in time. Her stepfamily ate a mammoth breakfast every morning and it didn’t make itself. She also normally had to spend at least ten minutes with each of her stepsisters to coax them out of bed. This was usually done by tempting them with pre-breakfast treats. She would then help them dress and bathe before breakfast. This was Barbella’s morning for as long as she could remember.

  No, this morning, Barbella woke up at 7am, and stayed in bed. She was nice and cosy and didn’t want to get up. Besides, after nearly committing treason last night she deserved a small lie in. However, all that time in the montage had left a new morning routine ingrained in her. So, when she did get up, she proceeded to begin exercising. A hundred Squats, crunches, press-ups, jumping jacks and then a quick 15km run. Just her normal routine.

  By the time she was finished, she was quite hungry. It was 9am. Time for breakfast. She went into the kitchen and made a large cooked breakfast for herself. She had already burned a lot of calories and she also needed as much protein as she could get. It was the only way to maintain muscle mass.

  As the smell of the cooked food spread throughout the house, Barbella heard a ringing. It was the ringing of a bell coming from within the house. This was what her stepfamily called “a Barbie bell”. This was rung whenever a member of her stepfamily wanted her to come to their room for whatever reason. Usually it was to bring them breakfast in bed, or to dress them. Sometimes however, it was to turn them over in the bed. Barbella heard the two more Barbie Bell’s join in as the first continued to ring out.

  Barbella ignored them and continued to cook. If she left the food alone now they could get burnt, and then she’d have no protein for her muscles. It was definitely the best decision to ignore them then. The ringing continued for a while longer, and only finally stopped as Barbella began to dig into her breakfast.

  As Barbella wolfed through her breakfast steak, she heard a yell in the distance, near the back of the house. She ignored it and continued eating. She had just gotten to her 10th egg, when her stepmother bustled into the room while shrieking.

  “Barbie! Why haven’t you been answering me? You’ve ignored the bells? You’ve ignored my yells? Your sisters are tired from last night and crying our for the breakfast!” her Stepmother screeched as entered.

  She stopped at the word breakfast, when she saw what Barbella was doing. She stared at her in open mouthed shock.

  “A-are you eating YOUR BREAKFAST??? What about MY BREAKFAST? And YOUR SISTERS’???” she roared at Barbella, who continued eating nonchalantly.

  When she received no response, Barbella’s stepmother began to blink rapidly. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She thought that she must still be dreaming. She tried pinching herself, but it was no use. This was reality.

  As she was getting to grips, with the new world she found herself in, her daughters entered in from behind her. Both were still dressed for bed, and were clearly annoyed.

  “Where is MY breakfast, Barbie? Did you go deaf?” said the older Sister, fuming that she’d had to get out of bed and come to the kitchen herself.

  “Yeah! My arm hurts from ringing the bell so much. It’s so heavy. I think I might have a sprain.” the younger sister chimed in, clutching her left arm dramatically as she did so.

  “Oh my poor baby.” said Barbella’s stepmother, as she looked at her younger daughter’s arm. “Are you happy Barbella? Your sister is hurt now. How could you be so selfish?”.

  Barbella finally looked up from her breakfast and took a look at her stepfamily. It was the first time she had more than glanced up since they had entered.

  “She looks fine to me.” said Barbella, as she popped another whole boiled egg into her mouth. Her 12th so far that breakfast.

  Barbella’s stepfamily looked shocked. Her stepsisters looked like they might keel over. Her stepmother on the other hand went red, then puce, then finally purple with rage. She stared at Barbella with more rage than she had ever felt in her entire life. She looked like the world's angriest plum had grown a face.

  “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO YOUR SISTER IN SUCH A MANNER?!” roared Barbella’s stepmother. “Have gone COMPLETELY INSANE? I DEMAND answers!!”

  “Ok.” said Barbella, as she popped one final egg into her mouth. “Go for it. Ask away.”

  Barbella’s stepmother looked at her stepdaughter properly, for perhaps the first time ever. She sat at the kitchen table munching carefreely on an egg. She had no fear on her face. The eyes that were normally downcast, were bright and filled with mirth. “Is she laughing at me?” thought Barbella’s stepmother. It seemed that the world had gone mad.

  She took several deep breaths and tried to calm herself down. She needed to regain control of the situation, she told herself. With a bright cheery smile she looked at Barbella again.

  “Ok, Barbie. Let's start at the beginning. What happened with the front door?” asked Barbella’s stepmother, in a fake cheery voice.

  “I broke it.” said Barbella candidly. “Actually, I also broke my bedroom door and bed as well. Not that you’d care, but I thought you should know.”

  “You B-broke it?” said her stepmother, clearly having difficulty understanding what she was hearing. “How did you break two doors? And your bed?”

  “I ran through the doors. And I landed on the bed too hard” said Barbella matter of factly, as she began to pick some egg out of her teeth. “Sorry about that.” she added, unconvincingly.

  “Y-you ran through it? Ok. I-I don’t know how to respond to that.” said her stepmother, trying and failing to process what she had just heard. “Putting the door aside for the moment. Why didn’t you make breakfast for the girls and me? Didn't you hear your bells?”

  “I was too busy making it for myself. I was pretty hungry after my run.” said Barbella as she got out of the chair and began to stretch. “Speaking of, I won’t be making your meals going forward. So you can get rid of those damn bells. They nearly ruined my breakfast.”

  “N-nearly ruined, your breakfast?” asked Barbella’s stepmother, as she began to breathe heavier than before. “What do you mean YOUR BREAKFAST?? LET ME MAKE SOMETHING CLEAR TO YOU, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BRAT. YOU. DON’T. GET. BREAKFAST. UNTIL. WE. DO. Got It?”

  Barbella stopped stretching and looked at her stepfamily. Her stepmother had once again gone to puce. Her stepsisters were huddled behind their mother, as though they were looking at a dangerous animal, or a crazy person. Barbella shook her head. How had she spent so long, looking to these things for love. She moved towards her stepfamily and stopped right in front of her stepmother. She’d held her ground as her daughters had backed away in fear at being too close to Barbella.

  Barbella looked at her stepmother. She stared down at her straight into her eyes. All those years she spent slaving away for this person. This woman who should have looked after her, but instead used her. She wasn’t her daughter. She was her slave. Well not anymore.

  Barbella leaned in close to her Stepmother. So close that their noses were touching and her Stepmother’s heavy breathing was going into Barbella’s chin. Throughout the entire lean in, Barbella never broke eye contact. It seems even her eyes had been transformed to be more muscular than before, refusing the need to blink so they could overpower her Stepmothers.

  Barbella stared down her Stepmother. Every ounce of her strength seemed to travel down her sight-line and into her stepmother’s irises. She looked straight through her eyes and into her soul. She saw the person behind the extravagant facade. A quivering, shivering wreck of insecurities that shored herself up by taking others down. Barbella pitied her, but couldn’t forgive her.

  “My name isn’t Barbie. It’s Barbella.” she stated to her tormentor. ”And you don’t get to tell me who to be anymore.”

  With that final statement, Barbella smiled. She slipped her hand under stepmother’s armpits and then in a snatch lifted her clean off the ground. She stretched her arms up high into the air overhead, with her new weight clasped between her hands. Her stepmother’s feet began to dangle as she struggled vainly against Barbella’s iron grip.

  “Barbie! Barbie!! What are you doing? Put me down this INSTANT!!!” cried her Stepmother from just below the ceiling.

  Barbella’s stepsisters just sat there where they were, mouths agape at what they were witnessing. They were powerless to stop her. Even if they hadn’t spent life refusing to so much as waddle anywhere, they wouldn’t have been able to stop Barbella. She walked with purpose holding her stepmother aloft as she entered the dining room.

  “Barbie! Barbie! Barbieeee! Barbieeee!! Barbie!” her stepmother shrieked as her head narrowly missed the top of the doorframe. “Put me down. Barbieeeeee!”

  Barbella walked to the corner of the room, where an old bookcase stood, set into the wall. It was made of heavy oak and had been there as long as she could remember. She had spent years cleaning and maintaining it for her stepmother, who didn’t even like to read. She just liked how intelligent it made her look. Holding her stepmother aloft in a snatch still, Barbella walked to the top left corner of the bookcase. It was a heavy bronze plated corner that stretched out in a grand fashion, extending itself out from the bookcase. With a simple smile and a loud “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!” from her stepmother, Barbella hooked her onto the bookcase, then turned and left the room.

  Her stepmother’s shrieks echoed throughout the house from where she dangled. The corner stretched too far out for her to angle herself back towards the bookcase for purchase. Her arms were too stubby and weak to lift herself off the corner either. She was completely helpless.

  As she wriggled up there panicking, her tone changed. More desperate, less demanding.

  “ Barbi- I mean, Barbella. Barbella please let me down. I’m sorry.” she called out. Her tone had changed in the midst of her desperate wriggling. She had finally realised that this wasn’t the same girl she’d refused to let go to the ball the day before. She kept calling out, louder and louder for Barbella, but to no avail. Wherever Barbella was gone she couldn’t hear her. Or she could, but didn’t care.

  Realising the hopelessness of Barbella ever helping her, her attention turned to her biological daughters. Blood was thicker than water. They’d help her, if they knew what’s good for them that is.

  “GIRLS! GIRLS! Girls get in here and let momma down. I need your help.” she called out to her daughters. “Be good angels, and help Momma get off the bookcase.”

  Slowly, her children began to waddle into the room. When they eventually arrived, they stared dumbfounded up at their mother, dangling like the world’s worst chandelier off the end of the bookcase. They muddled their way over towards her, taking several breaks along the way to rest. Arriving at her dangling feet, they stared stupefied at their mother. They attempted to lift her off the bookcase, but ran into some difficulty. Barbella had placed her Stepmother up quite high. So high in fact, that her Stepsisters could not reach their mother’s body. Left raising their arms up feebly, wiggling them in a vain attempt to get her down with wind power. Of course, even if they could reach their mother, a lifetime of lethargy had robbed them of any chance at lifting her down.

  The family’s struggle to retrieve their matriarch continued throughout the day. The sisters were never quite able to get her off no matter what they tried. Later in the afternoon they were interrupted by an unexpected visitor. They had just failed yet again to unhook their mother when he arrived behind them. They were discussing finding a sturdier chair, when a very polite cough startled them.

  The sister’s turned around and their mother looked up at the stranger in their kitchen. He was a well dressed man in advancing middle years. His appearance was that of a low ranking noble, or a wealthy merchant, or perhaps a functionary of some sort. His demeanour gave off the impression of a man of quiet competence. He was standing in their kitchen behind them, with a clenched fist to his mouth. He was staring at them quizzically. An unspoken question emanating from him.

  “My apologies for startling you all. I am Sir. Sebastian Carberry. I have the distinguished pleasure of serving his highness the Prince as an aide. ” he said with a flourishing bow. He straightened up as he continued, “I presume I have the pleasure of dealing with the three ladies of the house, yes?”

  “That is quite correct. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Carberry. I am the lady of the house. I am Lady Corinda Durn”, the Stepmother began. “These are my daughters, Amelia and Doris.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Sir.” the two sisters said in unison, whilst curtseying clumsily.

  “The pleasure is mine.” responded Sebastian, with a shallow nod. “Lady Corinda, I am here on behalf of his highness the Prince, on a most important matter. However, before I address that, would you perhaps like some assistance, getting down?”

  Corinda, the stepmother winced. She had forgotten her current appearance, that of the world’s ugliest bookcase ornament. She began to sweat and panic. She’d of course love to be freed from this nightmare. She couldn’t feel her legs anymore after all. But if she asked for his assistance, he’d want to know the circumstances that led to her being placed where she was. The humiliation she had endured would doubtless spread throughout the land. She wouldn’t be able to show her face at a ball or luncheon ever again. She had to think quickly.

  “I am most appreciative of your offer, Sir Carberry. This is a spinal lengthening and straightening technique. It is the latest trend from Paris. Helps keep a woman like myself, both upright and beautiful.”Corinda said with a beaming false smile. ”I would be most amenable to your assistance down, if that is not a bother for you? I believe I may have engaged in the practice slightly too long...“

  Sebastian merely bowed deeply and said nothing. He moved swiftly forwards and with a bit of a huff, lifted Corinda off the bookcase. He held her full weight for a moment, before as his legs began to buckle slightly, he dumped her as gently as possible onto a chair.

  “Uff. Ehem. I mean thank you, Sir. Carberry.” Corinda said with a slightly pained look. The dumping may not have been as gentle as intended.

  Sebastian merely smiled and bowed again. He took a step away from the chair to allow Corinda to reclaim some dignity. When she was done comporting herself, he smiled and bowed again, before addressing the three ladies.

  “Ladies, as I have previously said, I have come here with an urgent mission from the Prince.”

  The ladies all straightened themselves up further on hearing this. A mission from the Prince could mean only one thing, his bride candidate. Sebastian smiled at their reaction before continuing.

  “His highness has found the woman he wishes to marry. He met her at the ball last night and it was instant sparks. Unfortunately, he also suffered an injury last night when he was dropped on his head, by the same woman. As such, he cannot remember what she looked like specifically, or her name.”

  “Oh that’s terrible. How will he find her? With no name or appearance, he can never be sure it was the same woman he fell in love with even if he meets her again.” said Corinda, as her daughters nodded along.

  Sebastian smiled and nodded his head at their words, before continuing.

  “Exactly my lady. Fortunately, he does remember one rather striking feature of her, which will help us narrow her down from amongst the many candidates. She was incredibly strong. She was capable of putting the Prince over her shoulders and squatting ……, well and squatting him.

  Therefore it has been decided that the following will happen for the Prince to find his bride. He will go to the houses of all of last night’s guests and see if there is a woman from said house capable of squatting….. him.”

  The ladies stared at him dumbfounded. If it hadn’t been for what had happened this morning, this would without a doubt be the strangest thing they’d ever heard.

  Sebastian looked at their faces and nodded. It was the same reaction as every other house he’d been to that day. Well actually, they were taking it better than most. He breathed out in a small rush, before continuing.

  “To that end, his highness will arrive here later on today.”

  “His highness will come here? Why?” asked Corinda. Sebastian’s words had failed to fully connect in her head. Her children were equally stupefied.

  “Well, my lady, you and your daughters were guests last night. So you are on the list of potential brides. So his highness will be coming here, so one of you can attempt to squat.... Him.” Sebastian said, rather lamely. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on him.

  “Oh, I see.” replied Corinda vacantly. “So his highness will be coming here so we can attempt to squat him? And whomever does squat him, will become his bride?”

  “Yes. That’s it exactly. He should be over sometime soon I would imagine.” replied Sebastian.

  The ladies were stunned beyond words. The Prince coming here was one thing. But squatting him? They had lifted anything heavier than an overfull teacup before. Attempting to lift the Prince was suicidal. His weight would rip their arms off. But the palace’s word was law, and if the Prince was coming, the only thing they could do was prepare.

  So prepare they did.

  Or rather, prepare they would have. Unfortunately, with their only servant - Barbella -, currently missing, the job of preparing fell to them. The last time Corinda had prepared anything other than a cutting remark was when Barbella’s father was still alive. Which was quite a while ago. So she had no recent experience at preparing to receive guests. This still put her ahead of her own daughters, who had never even thought about preparing to receive guests. They were still dressed in their nightclothes.

  These issues were hampered even further by the fact that the front door was still destroyed. Unfortunately, they also had no experience repairing doors. They didn’t even know who to call about getting that done. So the splintered remains of the door would have to remain in place.

  Sebastian was no help either. Under no circumstance could they ask a palace functionary, let alone an aide to the prince, to fix a door. They did their best to keep him comfortable, by putting him in the parlour with a glass of water. They’d have given him tea or coffee, but they didn’t know how to make either of those. They couldn’t even boil a kettle.

  As they busied themselves by running around aimlessly and failing to prepare (and in the case of the sisters, failing to get dressed), time ticked away. Eventually, the appointed time arrived and with it, the Prince and his entourage.

  They arrived in a grand carriage to the front door, or rather what remained of it. They had at least managed to clean up most of the debris. It didn’t really help the lack of a functional door that much though. The Prince and his attendants each gave the door a quizzical look as they passed through it.

  Entering into the hall they were greeted by the ladies of the house and Sebastian. The three ladies were in a deep courtesy, or as deep a one as they could physically manage. Sebastian merely bowed when the Prince entered.

  “Sebastian, thank you for all your hard work.” said the Prince, with a nod as he took off his coat and handed it to an attendant. “I really should apologise for making you go to all the effort.”

  “Not at all your highness. It is both my duty and my joy to serve.” replied Sebastian with his usual smile.

  The Prince responded with a smile before turning his attention to the three ladies. Each of them was still facing the ground. Their heads were bowed as they remained in a curtsey until addressed. The daughters were however beginning to wobble violently.

  Gesturing with an outstretched hand to the three ladies, Sebastian nodded again and announced, “I have the utmost pleasure of introducing Lady Corinda Durn, and her daughters, Lady Amelia and Lady Doris”.

  All three ladies looked up once their names had been spoken. With a smile plastered onto their faces, they bowed their heads once, before exiting the curtsey. It was good timing too, Amelia and Doris had been near collapse. The Prince inclined his head in return.

  “It is our utmost pleasure to meet your highness again. Last night was such a thrill for us.” cooed Corinda, as her daughters smiled behind her.

  “Oh? We met last night?” asked the Prince with quiet hope in his voice.

  “Yes. Do you not remember?” asked Corinda innocently.

  “No. Unfortunately, the majority of my memory from last night is gone. The result of a minor bump I had on the head. The only thing I remember is the feel of those strong arms as they held me over her shoulders.” said the Prince wistfully.

  “Oh I see. How terribly sad that you don’t remember. You had a wonderful time with my daughters last night. You spent some time together enjoying yourselves.” lied Corinda gracefully.

  “I did?” said the Prince.

  “He did?” said both of Corinda’s daughters in unison.

  “Yes. You did.” said Corinda emphatically, with a smile for the Prince and a glare for her daughters.

  “Oh. Ye-yes, we did. It was a wonderful time.” said Amelia, the elder sister.

  “W-we had lots of fun together. Don’t you remember?” said Doris, the younger sister.

  “No I don’t. That’s what I just said. Did you not hear me?” asked the Prince, surprised at the question he just got.

  Doris began to panic and babble apologies but the Prince just shrugged them off. Now wasn’t the time for apologies. If they did spend all that time together, maybe one of them was the girl from last night.

  ”Still, you don’t look particularly strong.” said the Prince as he eyed up the sisters.

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” said Corinda quickly with a shrill voice.

  The Prince was of course correct. The sisters looked like two balloons filled with cake onto whom someone had painted faces. The only refined muscles they had were their jaw muscles. Their arms were noodly at best. Their legs were struggling against the odds and gravity to keep them upright. There was no conceivable way they could have lifted his arm, let alone him. Still, he reasoned he had to try. He needed to find his true love, no matter what he did.

  With a gesture to follow her, Corinda ushered her new guests into the parlour. Room had been made in the centre for the test. She seated herself and the Prince’s attendants on the various chairs surrounding the centre. In the middle, stood the Prince and two very glum faced sisters.

  “Well I don’t think there’s any point in waiting. So whichever you wish to go first, I am ready.” said the Prince, as he stretched and limbered up.

  He looked expectantly at Amelia and Doris, each standing either side of him. Neither of them budged. They were instead engaged in an intent staring contest with each other. As though they were screaming with their eyes “You first!”. They waited for a minute for either of the two to move forward to attempt to lift the Prince, and neither did.

  Eventually their mother Stepped and said in an overly polite but very firm tone, “Amelia petal, why don’t you try first and show your younger sister how it’s done. Lead by example.”

  Amelia blanched at her mother’s words and tone. She felt sick, but she had to do it. It was clear from her mother’s gaze that backing out wasn’t an option. Maybe she could do it. If she could, then she’d be a princess. If she was a princess, she’d be able to laze about and eat whatever she likes without anyone stopping her. More importantly, she’d be able to deal with that wretch Barbie. How dare she speak and act like that. When she’s a princess she’ll show her, is what Amelia thought. Straight to the dungeons!

  With a new smile on her face and a spring in her step, Amelia headed towards the Prince. She walked him to him and greeted him with a warm smile before wrapping her arms around his waist. She squeezed her arms as tight as she could and with a huge grunt tried to lift the Prince off the ground.

  Nothing happened.

  She tried again. Redoubling her efforts. She squeezed even tighter than last time, thoughts of vengeance and food spurring her to reach for new depths. With a roar she lifted her arms as high and hard as she could.

  Once again, nothing happened.

  Amelia let go of the Prince, gasping for breath. She had given it her all and had gotten nothing in exchange. All she was was tired and sweaty. She felt disgusting. This whole thing was stupid. Why was this damn Prince so heavy? He wasn’t even that tall. Only tall people should be heavy. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and glared at the Prince as she moved towards a free seat at the back of the room. She’d relax while her sister had a go.

  “It would seem Amelia is not the lady you are searching for. How disappointing for her and for us all.” said Sebastian, with a wicked smile on his face. He seemed to have enjoyed watching her fail.

  “Yes, it is very disappointing for Amelia. But I’m sure Doris must be the lady in question. You won’t fail, will you Doris?” said the girls’ mother with a frigid glare.

  “No momma.” said Doris as she moved towards the Prince.

  She walked up to the Prince and like her sister before her threw her arms around his waist. She then stopped, completely unmoving. Her face had gone bright red. This was the closest she had ever been to a man, and the Prince wasn’t just any man. He was perhaps the handsomest man she’d ever seen. She was already breathing heavily, and she hadn’t even begun to lift him yet. She didn’t know what to do. As she panicked, she paused and began to calm down. There was a lonely warm calming scent entering her nostrils. It reminded her of eating hot cross buns in bed. It seemed to wrap itself around her brain and settle her nerves in an instant. It was the Prince’s smell.

  Doris paused for the longest time, then in a rather unusual move she didn’t lift. Instead she brought her face close to the Prince’s chest, and inhaled as strongly as she could. She let out a big sniff as she brought as much of his scent into her lungs as possible. She was in heaven, she’d never been so happy.

  “L-lady Doris, what are you doing?” asked the Prince, somewhat nervously.

  Doris snapped out of her reverie immediately. Everyone was staring at her. Everyone, including her family and the Prince had seen her wrap her arms around the Prince and lean in close and smell him. Doris panicked and with a huff began trying earnestly to lift the Prince. She struggled with her arms and squeezed and tried to move her legs but it was no use.

  He did not move an inch.

  As Doris clung to the Prince with a red face, breathing heavily from both his smell and exhaustion. She noticed something. The Prince had a small sheen to his face and hands. Evidently, being so close to another person had made his body warm and he had begun to sweat slightly. She’d never seen anything so lovely in her life. She leaned in towards the Prince again and stuck her tongue out towards his closest hand. Nectar of the Gods, and it was all hers.

  “Doris!!! What are you doing???” screamed her mother at poor Doris, completely knocking her out of her own little world.

  Her mother was on her feet, face puce from screaming. Her sister had her hands covering her mouth in shock. Every other person in the room was looking at Doris, like they were looking at a crazy person. Her eyes looked up to the Prince’s face. His demeanour was calm, but his eyes were clearly panicking. He looked extremely uncomfortable. Like he was being held by a rather disgusting pile of trash, instead of a person.

  He gently, but rather forcefully prised Doris’ arms from around him and stepped out of her embrace. She struggled and tried to keep hold of him, her tongue once more outstretched. She couldn’t let him leave now, she’d finally found her love. She loved him more than anything else in the world.

  “Ge-get her off me.” said the Prince through clenched teeth, no longer bothering to hide his discomfort.

  Four of his attendant’s moved forwards and removed Doris from him. Holding onto her to prevent her from grabbing onto him again. Doris tried to open her mouth in protest, but one look at her mother’s face shut her up. She’d only ever seen her give that face to Barbie before. With a quiet humph she went silent and stopped resisting. The Prince’s attendant’s guided her at her mother’s urging out of the room and into the kitchen.

  “Your highness, I’m so terribly sorry. I have no idea what went into her head. Normally she’s a very good girl. I’ve never seen her act like that before.” said Corinda as the Prince straightened himself out. Doris’ struggle had ruffled his clothes quite badly.

  “It’s fine. I’m sure she was just a bit confused.” said the Prince diplomatically. “I don’t know how else a noble lady like herself could try to lic- I’m not going to say it. Let’s just all move on with our lives.”

  The Prince was clearly no longer comfortable being in the house. He motioned to his attendants and they all got ready to leave. Donning their coat, and helping the Prince into his outfit. Corinda looked at them panicking. She couldn’t let them leave like this. If they left her daughter’s (and by extension, her) shame would be known by everyone. She needed to figure out a way for them to stay.

  “Your highness, if you’d give me a moment I’m sure I can explain e-” Corinda started, but the Prince put up a hand and cut her off.

  “Lady Corinda, I assure you. I have no intention of ever speaking of this experience to anyone. Mark my words, I and my men will keep our silence.” said the Prince with the most serious expression she’d ever seen. “But, that being said. It may be in your best interests, if you and your daughters stay away from social events for a while. Just so you have more time to instil proper manners into them.”

  At that, Corinda fell to her knees, beaten. Even if he didn’t say anything, failing to attend social events is the same as an execution for someone like Corinda. Everyone who knows her will wonder why she has suddenly stopped attending. The rumours will be horrific. Though perhaps, not as horrific as the truth.

  As she lay there sobbing, there was a noise from the front door as someone entered the house. It was Barbella, dressed in home-made training gear. She had just come back from the long run she had taken after hanging her Stepmother on the bookshelf.

  As Barbella wandered in, she was surprised to see so many people in her home. She ran past them all and into the parlour where she could hear her Stepmother crying. Barbella was shocked to see her stepmother off the bookcase and in tears. However, she was even more shocked to see the Prince and his aides in her home. Her face went bright red at the sight of him. As memories of last night resurfaced, she hastily tried to cover her face with her hands so that he wouldn’t recognise her.

  “They must be here to arrest me”, she thought to herself. “Well I’m not going to prison after finally getting my freedom. If they want me, they’ll need to catch me.”

  However, before Barbella could turn and run, she heard a voice call out to her.

  “Who are you?” asked the Prince, as he approached her, seeming puzzled by her presence.

  Barbella froze. She needed to leave. She wasn’t going to go to prison no matter what. However she didn’t get all these muscles, just so she could lie her way out of her problems. She’d fight and run out. That’s what Rocco would want.

  She turned to face the Prince. Removing the hand covering her mouth she bowed to him.

  “I’m Barbella, your highness. From last night.” said Barbella contritely. Just because she didn’t want to go to prison didn’t mean she didn’t feel bad for hurting such a nice man.

  “Barbella? Last night?” said the Prince, even more puzzled than before. “I’m sorry my lady, did we meet last night at the Ball? I have no real memory of last night due to having my face planted into the ground.”

  “Oh your highness, that’s terrible. I can’t believe something so awful happened to you. I hope whomever did it is treated mercifully if they get caught. I’m sure it was an accident.” said Barbella. She was relieved to see that the Prince didn’t remember her, but she also felt slightly sad. He was the first person to ever be nice to her, without wanting anything in return. She felt sad to lose that friendship.

  “Thank you. I’m actually here looking for the person responsible. I wasn’t aware there was someone else here we could look for. I suppose we’ll have to test you as well.” said the Prince, more eager now than he was earlier. There was something about this Barbella lady that seemed so familiar to him. He just couldn’t figure out what.

  “There’s no need to do that.”, screeched Barbella’s stepmother, Corinda. ”Barbie is a cruel, vicious, mean spirited girl. She is lying to you, your highness. It’s what she does.”

  Corinda was no longer crying. Instead she was back on her feet and pointing and waving her finger at Barbella. Her earlier despair at her daughters’ circumstances had morphed into white hit hatred for Barbella. It was her, who had stolen her daughter’s future. If she hadn’t turned weird this morning, everything would have been normal and fine. One of her daughters would have married the Prince, and she’d be the centre of the nobility’s social life.

  All eyes in the room turned to Barbella. Barbella stood there in silence. She was confused. She had been looking for a way to get out of the test. She obviously didn’t want to go to prison. However, her stepmother also wanted her to avoid the test. After what happened earlier, if Corinda could throw her in prison, she would. Without a moment's hesitation. She’d probably sing as the cell door slammed shut. If she thought Barbella shouldn’t be allowed to take the test, then Barbella should take the test.

  “Please ignore my stepmother,” Barbella began, “We have a ...complicated relationship. I also don’t think she’s feeling well, as she seems a bit confused. Regardless, what is the test, your highness?”

  “Ahh, I see. Yes I can understand how complicated things must get in this home.” said the Prince sympathetically. The licking incident still fresh in his mind.

  “As for the test. It’s rather simple. You just need to……. Just need to…” the Prince’s voice trailed off before he got to the end of his sentence. His face had gone bright red with embarrassment. It was one thing to actually have someone try and squat him, quite another to ask a girl to do so, face to face. Especially one as pretty as Barbella.

  “Just need to what, your highness?” asked Barbella curiously, unaware as to the effect she was having on the Prince.

  “Ehem. You just need to…. Just need to ……” the Prince took a deep breath, coughed to clear his throat and tried again. “You just need to ...squat me.” As he said the last two words his voice cracked with nerves.

  Barbella blinked a few times. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

  “Why do I have to squat you?” asked Barbella.”What happens if I can do it?”

  The Prince’s face went from embarrassment to confusion, to realization in a single moment. He looked at her and smiled warmly.

  “Ah, I didn’t realise you hadn’t been told. If you can …...squat me, you will become my bride. I met my true love last night at the ball, and all I remember of her is the feeling of being held over her shoulders and ...squatted.” said the Prince, with a wistful smile on his face.

  Barbella was completely shocked at what the Prince had said. True love? Did he really love her? Did she really love him? Barbella took a moment to search her feelings, and what she found surprised her.

  She said nothing. Instead, she looked the Prince dead in the eye, walked up to him and lifted him up into the air and onto her shoulders. As his body landed on her shoulders, even her Stepmother’s objections, being given to an aide in the background, fell silent. It seemed the world itself paused to reflect on what was happening.

  Then she squatted him.

  The rush of wind in his hair, and the feeling of gravity holding him closer to Barbella’s shoulders snapped the Prince back to last night. To the introduction, the dancing and finally to his fall and her escape. He felt everything he was missing from the night before, returning in a rush. Gently he tapped her to stop and got off her shoulders.

  Barbella looked down at him, her eyes moist and her face hopeful. The Prince looked up at her and smiled.

  “I love you Babs.” he said as he leaned up on his tippy toes and pulled her head down to kiss her.

  “I love you too, Frank” Barbella said, smiling through tears.

  That day was the last day Barbella ever entered that house. She left for the palace to live with the Prince that very day. To live a life of happiness and fulfilment.

  Sir Carberry was promoted and in time eventually retired. In his retirement he would often dine out on the story of the time he helped the Prince find his true love. He always made sure to mention Barbella leaving her stepmother dangling, and the Prince nearly getting licked.

  Her Stepfamily was ruined. The shock of seeing Barbella become a princess left her stepmother bedridden. Her stepsisters spent the rest of their days looking after her, the same way Barbella had once looked after them.

  Rocco continued to help the deserving to help themselves. The fairy musclemother’s influence led to a rise of bodybuilders and boxers wherever he went. He’d always check in on Barbella, every once in a while. Just to make sure she was still “doin’ good”.

  Eventually, Barbella and Francis were married and in time became king and queen of the kingdom. In their spare time they enjoyed long walks and exercising together. A favourite of theirs was for Barbella to go mountain running with Francis on her back. In the end, with Frank by her side, Babs lived happily ever after.

  The end.