Trine Mangernes + Kat Eckert

Princess Group Therapy

Monday, April 27th, 2009

“My name is Cinderella, and I’m a tormented princess. Who thought it would be a good idea to make high heels out of glass? I’m always so nervous that I’m going to crack or chip them. Plus with all my other responsibilities, I don’t have time to upkeep my pedicures. I don’t want the world to be able to see my feet all the time! I happen to have an embarrassing case of athlete’s foot. Besides, the glass is so cold. And, ew, mice! It’s bad enough that I was scrubbing medieval toilets for the first half of my life for my evil stepmother – now I have to work with mice! And I’m never alone! My Fairy Godmother is always zipping about turning pumpkins into carriages – is it really so difficult to pick up the phone and call a taxi? If only she could do something more useful, instead of setting ridiculous curfews, and dressing me in a white ball gown. I’m a spiller – never dress me in white!”

“You think your stepmother is bad? She just made you tidy up. Mine tried to kill me! But whenever she’s around I have to put on this act and smile, when I know that witch has hitmen on speed dial. What’s with that mirror, anyway? I took a look in it once, and all I could think of was how badly I wanted to go tanning. By the way, living with seven men is not as great as it sounds. Our bathroom is a disaster zone. You said you scrubbed toilets –could you help me out with that?”

“Blah blah blah … evil stepmothers. At least you both get handsome princes! I’m stuck with a monster. And don’t give me that crap about ‘it’s the beauty underneath that counts’. There is no underneath. I’ve checked. A lot. There are just layers and layers of mangled hair! But I sing and dance and smile because I want the title and the big castle and the golden gown. Does that make me shallow? A touch superficial? I think the clock is on to me. That twitchy little fat timepiece never liked me. Man, the French are rude! Oh, and when I signed up for this, no one said anything about wolves …”

“I’d rather have wolves trying to eat me than deer and birds trying to sing with me. Why can’t I just have some peace and quiet, instead of the whole forest wanting to put on a full-fledged furry production of 42nd Street? I’m supposed to be asleep. For an extended period of time. I’m talking years, here. When little woodland creature songs keep me from my coma, something is not right.”

“Sleeping, yeah that’s a real tough life. I’m imprisoned in my own home, because my father is so over-protective. At least you get to wear a dress! I’m forced to parade around in a turquoise bikini. Why can’t I wear sweat pants, and a Yankees tee? Maybe plop in front of the TV, drink a few Coronas, smoke a cigarette, let myself go a little… but no, a princess can’t get fat. Allah forbid! At least I get a pet tiger – that’s pretty awesome (even if I am too terrified to go anywhere near it).”

“Imprisoned? You live in a palace. And don’t talk to me about over-protective fathers. I can never go swimming by myself, he always sends the babysitter along. How can a puny crustacean possibly protect me? All I want is to sing and have legs, and not necessarily in that order. I’d love a furry 42nd Street production! People don’t appreciate how difficult it is to carry a tune underwater. Whatever, at least I’m actually a princess, unlike this savage over here.”

“Who are you calling savage? I prefer the term Native, thank you. Just because I don’t star in my own fairy tale, doesn’t mean I’m less of a princess. I’m constantly outshone by that kid flying around in his green tights. But I am a princess! Just ask the Neverlandish Natives. I’m the Chief’s daughter! I’m a friggin’ princess, alright?!? Why does everyone forget about me? Is it because of that tree-hugger Pocahontas? I mean, is this like the Highlander: there can only be one, Native American Princess? That’s bullshit.”

“Real Princesses don’t curse.”

“Fuck off, Blondie! All of you – you’ve got your happily ever afters, and you’re still complaining. Where can I get one … Sharper Image? A used one on e-bay may be more in my price range, but then I have to wait for shipping –”

“Joke all you want, savage, but a happily ever after is fleeting and when your once upon a time comes and goes, you’ll find yourself miserably ever after that.”