story time folks-

i wrote this story for my good friend dave. i had a dream that i lived in a castle and people were visiting santa at the castle and then dave came to visit me and we hung out in my room like old times. when i told him about this dream, he wrote me a great story based on the events and suggested i do the same. this was the result:

The Beautiful Princess Saves Christmas [And Meets a Friend]

Once upon a time, because all good fairytales begin that way, there was a beautiful princess. Like most beautiful princesses, she lived in the tallest tower of a great stone castle high on a mountain in a land of mist. Now, I realize that at this point in the story she sounds like your ordinary everyday princess, but bear with me and you will find that she was anything but ordinary. This princess enjoyed being a princess, but she wasn’t about to be defined by her title as such. She didn’t wear gowns and slippers, for as you know, castles are rather drafty and this particular castle, standing on the side of a mountain, in a land of mist, was also very damp. Besides, she found it nearly extremely difficult to ride her beloved bicycle in a gown, and having hours of free time for riding is one of the benefits of being a princess. Our princess wore rode her bike, hiked the mountain and danced in her tower adorned in her favorite jeans and an old pair of boots [as you might imagine, a land of mist is not only damp, but also muddy]. I am aware that the mention of a beautiful princess often brings to mind images of long, shimmering hair. But knowing that princess live in castles and castles have very poor plumbing, how do you imagine a princess would keep said tresses so shimmering? The truth is, keeping long lovely hair in a castle is nearly impossible. Most princesses go to the salon before being photographed or having their portraits painted. Our princess thought this was silly, and a waste of money. She preferred to avoid the problem entirely by keeping her hair shaved in the lesser known traditional princess cut- The Double Mohawk.

Although she was beautiful, and lived in a castle, this princess was terribly lonely. A land of mist isn’t exactly a vacation destination. She would hold the occasional feast or ball, but what she really wanted was someone to go riding with. A friend who would dance with her in her tower, help her bake pies and stay up late to toast the moon rise with a bottle beer. You may be wondering why such a beautiful, interesting princess didn’t have hoards of princes knocking on her drawbridge. The problem was, our princess wasn’t under a curse or a spell, she didn’t have an evil step mother, and she wasn’t in need of rescuing. This made her unappealing to most quest-driven knights and princes who passed through her land of mist.

The seasons came and went; the princess rode her bike, baked pies and danced alone in her tower. The mist turned to rain, the mud got colder, the squirrels had finished stashing their walnuts, and it was winter. There was a town at the base of the princess’s mountain and with Christmas coming, all of the adults were giddy with excitement for their visit to Santa. You may find it strange that all of the adults were anticipating their time with Santa, but this was no ordinary Santa. Yes, he looked like Santa, and sat in a big chair attended by an elf like Santa, but when a person climbed up onto his lap the most extraordinary thing happened. If the person had been kind, and loving; if they had recycled, ridden their bike, made dinner for a friend and not watched too much T.V., then Santa would give them a great bear-hug, a nice back rub, a six pack of their favorite holiday brew and send them on their way feeling much more relaxed and ready to face the holidays.

The mist had turned to rain. Soon the rain turned to a downpour and the downpour to a deluge. This was a lot of water, even for a land of mist and things started to flood. At first the citizens of the town were delighted. They were used to being wet and muddy. They had fabulous rubber boots and when the water got too high for those, they had kayaks and canoes. They were paddling around, having the best holiday season ever, until they realized that the water had reached Santa’s house. With Santa’s house under water, there could be no visit to Santa and with no visit to Santa, not a single person in the town could imagine getting through the rest of the winter. Up on the side of the mountain, high above the flood, the princess saw the townspeople in despair. Not being one to stand by while others suffered, she called up Santa and invited him to hold his annual audience in her castle. When the people of the town heard that the princess was hosting Santa and that their visit with Santa was still on, they brought her an entire case of her favorite holiday brew.

News of the extraordinary Santa and the princess’s kind gesture traveled fast, as warm fuzzy stories seem to do at Christmas time. An independent newspaper far away in a land of steel, decided to send one of their writers to interview the beautiful princess and the extraordinary Santa. The journalist rode every day for a week and was thoroughly road-weary when at last the princess’s tower came into view over the horizon. He parked his bike in the stables, and knocked on the drawbridge. The princess was every bit as beautiful as he had heard, and Santa gave a killer back rub. The journalist loved the castle and the fresh air in the land of mist. The princess loved having the journalist as a house guest; he was nothing like the knights and princes she was used to enduring, so she invited him to stay a while. He agreed that he could use a vacation and they baked a lovely blackberry pie in celebration. That night, they sat out on the princess’s balcony and drank some of her gift from the townspeople as the winter moon rose above the mountain in the land of mist.