Natboff! One Million Years of Stupidity. Andy Stanton

Gypsy King was standing on a black rock amidst a great lake of fire, untroubled by the flames that 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

      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 –

      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.’

      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.

      ‘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?’

      ‘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.

      ‘And then,’ said Cobwep, ‘you must go up to the fir tree, child, the one that stands in the very middle of the gardens, where all the paths meet. And you must eat it.’

      ‘OK,’ said Princess Snowflake, ‘that’s – no, sorry, actually, hold on a minute. What do you mean?’

      ‘Just what I say,’ said Cobwep. ‘You go up to the fir tree, you open your mouth and you eat it.’

      ‘Let me get this straight,’ said Princess Snowflake. ‘You want me to eat a fir tree?’

      ‘Yes,’ said all the witches together.

      ‘An entire fir tree?’

      ‘Yes,’ said the witches.

      ‘Can you do a spell to make it easier, Grandmother?’ said Princess Snowflake. ‘I mean, I actually know the tree you’re talking about, it’s – there’s no way, I mean – it’s . . . Look, I’m not trying to be ungrateful but – it’s, really, it’s just – honestly, there’s just no way.’

      ‘Sorry, you’ll have to manage on your own,’ said Cobwep. ‘Anyway, we’ve got to go now, there’s another princess in trouble in Russia. She’s had her face stolen by ghosts.’

      ‘What, are you going to make her eat a fir tree too?’ shouted Princess Snowflake. ‘I can’t believe this is happening, seriously, what on earth are you all thinking.’

      ‘Bye bye, dearie,’ said the witches as they left to catch their aeroplane, which was an enormous broomstick driven by a cat. ‘You know what to do, good luck.’

      Princess Snowflake lay awake until it was midnight. Then, hardly daring to think about the task ahead, out she crept in her nightgown, into the moonlit gardens of the Winter Palace. The night was deathly quiet and the snow was falling soft and thick.

      Princess Snowflake stuck out her tongue and swallowed the first snowflake that landed upon it.

      Then she swallowed the second snowflake.

      Then she swallowed the third snowflake.

      Then she went up to the fir tree which stood in the middle of the gardens where all the paths met, and she started eating it.

      ‘This is a complete nightmare,’ sobbed Princess Snowflake as she sat there chewing on a mouthful of bark. ‘It’s going to take forever .’

      But each time she wanted to give up, she thought of Gooseberry’s innocent little face and she remembered how much the witches loved her and she told herself, ‘One more bite, just one more bite.’ So the hours passed, though every minute felt like a lifetime.

      One more bite, just one more bite . . . And as the night turned to morning and the sun was rising over the gardens, Princess Snowflake realised that the entire fir tree was gone. So it just goes to show: you can do anything if only you believe in yourself. You can win the Olympics. You can become a professor. You can even eat a fir tree. You probably shouldn’t eat a fir