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English Teacher:

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Cinderella - From the Pumpkin's Point of View

October, 31 2001

Yo. Live from the small intestine of a Mr. Prince Charming, this is Pumpkin. I am here to tell you a Cinderella-ish story. The real story. Not the story of a kind, hard working, caring, loving, beautiful, cinder maid – but the story of a young and…umm…confused man. His name may not be familiar to you, but by the end of my tale, believe me…you will never forget it. His name was Cinderfella.

He was almost like your fantasy Cinderella. Like the fictitious Cinderella, he had two ugly stepsisters and a tyrannical step of a mother who forced him to do their housework in return for food and shelter (even though he did have other options). He sang and danced with himself like Cinderella, and even wore an apron and kerchief all day. But he was also very different from your fake cinder maid. Unlike Cinderella, Cinderfella had his own bedroom, clothes, bathroom, and money and yet he wished for grander things like to live in the palace (which he could see clearly from his bay view window).

As a result of these unobtainable desires, my man was a selfish, whiney, brat. Cinderfella would come out in the middle of the night to my pumpkin patch and start doing some bizarre twirling stuff while screeching out “songs” of sorrow and loneliness. Then after he was done with his nightly concerts, he would sit down next to me, out of all the pumpkins, and start complaining about his life as a cinder boy and tell me his sometimes, disgusting fantasies. Then if that wasn’t bad enough, he would start to stroke me! Boy, if I had arms and a mouth I would have smacked him and then filed for sexual assault. That’s when I realized he was a little on the tooty-fruity side if you know what I mean.

Anyway, one day the stepsisters got an invitation to the Prince’s Ladies Only party at his palace. They were so excited and got ready immediately. Mr. Tooty-Fruity had to iron their best dresses, help with their make-up, clean their shoes, call a carriage, and then get ready himself. But to his disappointment, his sisters and mother said he could not go because he…well…was a guy (sort of).
After they had departed, Cinderfella cried and whined out in the pumpkin patch again. I was so afraid he would start singing again when suddenly there was a flash of light and a She-man was standing right next to me!

“Oh hush your whining child!” it bellowed.

“Wh-wh-who are you?” stuttered Cinderfella.

“I am your Fairy- Godmother, Robert, but you can call me Cocoa. Now, I am here to make you shut up because you are disturbing the neighbors and the only way it seems I can do that is to get you to the ball. And honey – you need some help if you want to get in to that party. So fetch me a pumpkin, six mice, and a rat.”

And you’ll never guess which pumpkin Cinderfella chose – ME. You don’t even want to know how many curse words I wanted to yell at him. Anyway, he brought me, the six mice, and the rat to Cocoa and laid us in front of her/him. Then the unexpected happened. Cocoa pulled out some black dominatrix whip and gave us each a lashing. Then somehow we all mutated. I, as you probably guessed, was transformed into a pink floral carriage. The mice were made into white horses, and the rat became the carriage driver.

Next Cocoa gave Cinderfella a whipping and he suddenly became – not a She- but a full on She-man. He was wearing a skin tight, sequined pink mini dress with black fishnets and glass stilettos. His hair was a wig obviously, as it was platinum blonde and really big. Cinderfella’s face, like the rest of his getup, looked like trash.

“Now listen to me carefully Cinderfella,” Cocoa said, “at exactly midnight my spell will break and you will become a cinder boy once again. So be watchful of the clock tonight. And don’t forget to get down and nasty with the Prince.”

Then Cinderfella gave Cocoa a kiss on the cheek and thanked her/him and jumped into, well…me. The whole way to the palace I kept thinking how lucky I was not to be a pregnant woman. After Cinderfella entered the palace, I don’t know what happened. It was kind of boring outside, so I took a nap for a while but was awakened by the midnight chimes of the town clock.

Suddenly Cinderfella came running out of the palace with only one shoe on. He jumped in me and we left as quickly as we could. The spell broke one mile away from our farmhouse. The mice and rat scurried away, so Cinderfella picked me up and walked the rest of the way home.

He told me all about the party and how every girl in the palace was jealous of him. About how he fell in love with the Prince the moment he saw him and vice versa. He told me how they danced all night and were about to kiss when the clock struck midnight and when he ran away, he lost one of his glass stilettos. I almost vomited, I really almost did, but I don’t have a mouth.

You know the rest of the story. The Prince found Cinderfella’s shoe, searched far and wide for his mystery “woman”, found Cinderfella, the shoe fit, and they got married. As for me, well, I became the wedding cake. And now I am here – inside the Prince on his wedding night. Don’t feel bad for me though. I’ll be back in a few minutes, because you know, it’s their wedding night, and the Prince is in for the most nauseating surprise of his life.