Natboff! One Million Years of Stupidity. Andy Stanton

his cloak sweeping out behind him –

      and in a flash he had vanished, just as if he had

      never been there at all.

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      Poor Princess Snowflake. She was so distraught

      that as soon as she got back to the Winter Palace,

      she took to her icy bed and lay there with her

      face buried in the pillow, and none of the kindly

      old witches could rouse her. All that evening

      they knocked upon her chamber door, singing:

      Let us

      in,

      let us

      in

      Princess, dearie,

      let us

      in

      For tho’ this

      life is full of sin

      And trouble,

      Princess, dearie,

      let us in

      But Princess Snowflake cried, ‘Leave me to my sorrows! Begone from my chamber door!’

      That night she dreamed a terrible dream. The

      Gypsy King was standing on a black rock amidst

      a great lake of fire, untroubled by the flames that

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      licked at his boots and laughing with pure scorn.

      All about fell thousands and thousands of glass

      snowflakes, and in each one Princess Snowflake

      saw Gooseberry’s unhappy face. But when she

      tried to catch one of the snowflakes it slipped

      through her fingers like sand.

      ‘HA HA AHA HAHAHHAHA!’ laughed

      the Gypsy King. ‘You will never get your little

      dog back, unless you know the thing that I am

      most afraid of in the world!’

      The next evening, the kindly old witches

      came again to Princess Snowflake’s door, singing:

      Let us in,

      let us in

      Princess,

      darling,

      let us in

      For we are

      here to

      help in times

      Of trouble

      Princess,

      darling,

      let us in

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      But again Princess Snowflake cried,

      ‘Begone from my chamber door! Leave me to my miseries!’

      Once more she fell into a troubled sleep, and once more she dreamed of the Gypsy King, standing on his black rock amidst the lake of fire. And once more he laughed and said, ‘You will never know the thing I am most afraid of in the world! Someone like you could never know that!’

      On the third evening the witches came again to Princess Snowflake’s door, singing:

      Let us

      in,

      let us in

      Princess,

      sweetheart,

      let us in

      For when the

      going’s hard

      And full of

      trouble –

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      But this time Princess Snowflake flung the door open wide and she fell to her knees sobbing and begging for forgiveness.

      ‘I told you she’d open the door on the third night,’ whispered one of the witches at the back. ‘Things always happen in threes in fairy tales. That’s a fiver you owe me, Liz.’

      ‘So you do have need of our help after all?’ asked the leader of the kindly old witches, who was called Cobwep, because her parents hadn’t known how to spell ‘Cobweb’.

      ‘Yes, yes!’ sobbed Princess Snowflake. ‘I have been an impossible child! But I can bear it no longer! Please help me, though I hardly deserve it!’

      ‘It is well spoken,’ said Cobwep. ‘Sleep now, Princess Snowflake, and we shall return tomorrow evening.’

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      Gently, Cobwep tucked

      the child into bed and kissed

      her goodnight. Princess

      Snowflake fell asleep with

      a smile on her face and

      this time, when she saw

      the Gypsy King in her

      dream, he shrank back and cried, ‘What! You have protected yourself

      with the thing I am most

      afraid of in the world! I

      hate you, you’re stupid!’ And he disappeared beneath the flames.

      When the witches came back the next evening, they didn’t even have to bother coming up with another verse, for the chamber door was open to receive them.

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      ‘We have returned to help you, as we said we would,’ said Cobwep.

      ‘Thank you, Grandmother,’ said Princess Snowflake. (It didn’t mean that Cobwep was actually her real grandmother, it is just what children always call old women in fairy tales, no one knows why.) ‘Can you ever forgive me for being so awful?’

      ‘Of course, child,’ said Cobwep. ‘For we only want to see you happy.’

      ‘Then will you . . . Will you help me get Gooseberry back?’ asked Princess Snowflake. ‘I am so lonely without him.’

      ‘We shall do what we can,’ said Cobwep. ‘But getting him back will not be easy. You must travel to the Realm of the Gypsy King, and you must travel alone. Are you ready to make the journey?’

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      ‘I am,’ replied Princess Snowflake.

      ‘Then I shall tell you the way,’ said Cobwep,

      her face wavering in the candlelight like an old flannel. ‘You must go into the gardens at midnight, child, when the moon is fat and full.’

      ‘OK,’ said Princess Snowflake.

      ‘And you must stick your tongue out, and you must eat the first snowflake that lands on your tongue,’ said Cobwep.

      ‘OK,’ said Princess Snowflake.

      ‘And then,’ said Cobwep, ‘you must stick your tongue out a second time, and you must eat the next snowflake that lands on your tongue.’

      ‘OK,’ said Princess Snowflake.

      ‘And then,’ said Cobwep, ‘you must stick your tongue out a third time, and you must eat one last snowflake.’

      ‘OK,’ said Princess Snowflake.

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      ‘And then,’ said Cobwep, ‘you must go up

      to the fir tree, child, the one that stands in the

      very