The Sugar Plum Princess
Once upon a time, in a lovely kingdom of sugar and spirit warming sweetness, there lived a princess with the sweetest of sugars and the firmest of flesh. This princess was no rosy cheeked human nor soft, furry maiden; her round, plump, ripened physique was the envy of the kingdom and the very symbol of the sweetness and richness within it. The princess - a ripe, young, sweet sugar plum - had absolutely everything. The sugar plum princess had riches, sweetness, designer clothing, an immaculate palace, servants, chamber maids, friends, and even men of all kinds - both human and not - swooning at her feet and dreaming to one day become her king.
Even though all of these fine suitors came to marry the sugar plum princess, she would deny them all, feeling as though the suitors of all diversities just didn't compliment her sweetness nor her personality. The sugar plum princess required somebody kind and sweet like herself. He didn't need to be of nobility or even wealth - that is how kind and sweet the princess truly was. It was even said that the princess was so kind and so sweet, even her tears - silky, juicy plum-juice tears were rich in sweet, sweet flavor.
In fact, there was someone who was after the princess who wasn't so sweet. The long-hated wizard known only as Mordecai Shroud envied the princess' power and though that it was ridiculous that such a kind, pushover of a princess would be in such a position of power.
"Look at her," Mordecai mumbled, "sitting atop her throne - that childish, bulbous piece of fruit! I hope she rots and withers away!" Mordecai's old, wrinkled face turned into a scowl as he watched through a mirror on his wall.
A loud crashing sounded behind him as his servant, a small, yellow, anthropomorphic tortoise with spectacles and a blue shell waddled into the room, "You could always dry her out, Boss!" he said, giggling a bit, "I do like prunes... and they'll help me digest a bit if you could..."
"Shut up, you!" Mordecai scolded watching as his tortoise assistant slowly climbed over his mess, joining him at his side, "Aha...wait a moment. A prune?" Mordecai laughed, "Yes... actually... nobody will come crawling to her then. They only love her because she's so beautiful." Mordecai looked again through his mirror and watched as the princess rested her robust, fruity frame in her throne before an audience before she gave a routine speech.
"If she became a prune, she would lose her beauty... then, becoming so lonely and so desperate for love, she would accept any man who came along for her pruned little hand!" Mordecai laughed menacingly, "I shall then ask for her hand in marriage, she will have no choice but to accept... and I will become the king!"
The tortoise looked up to his master and scratched his chin, "Uh... but... how will you get her to dry out if you're not allowed into the castle?"
"It's simple," Mordecai said, stroking his pointy, bony chin, "You will go in for me - ever heard of Snow White?"
"Snow, er..."
"A fairy tale about a girl who is so pretty her stepmother gets jealous and tries to kill her with magical items, one of them being a poison apple," Mordecai explains, "instead of an apple... I will charm a lemon pie!"
The tortoise laughed a bit, clapping his little hands together before adjusting his glasses, "But wait... you're not very good at baking. Remember last time when..."
"Shut up and get in the kitchen and bake the pie!"
The sugar plum princess sat on her throne and watches as her loyal subjects clapped before her. Her speech on the state of the kingdom and health of her people went well as usual. Taxes will be cut again and her people will receive much less expensive health care with much more coverage.
Her royal adviser, a tall, handsome man who is made of cherry taffy assisted her from her throne. He was a resident of the kingdom during her father's reign, when the kingdom was solely meant for candy people and fruit people. As he extended his arm and helped her from the throne, his arm stretched a little bit as the princess pulled, standing to her feet.
The sugar plum princess smiled as she looked up at her taffy adviser, admiring his strong jaw and his red flesh. As she smiled, she inhaled through her little nose and allowed his cherry scent to envelop her.
"Oh, Taren... I do enjoy your cherry scent so much! It's a wonder having you around, Dear!" the princess said.
Taren smiled back and knelt to one knee, giving the princess' firmly fleshed hand a tender, quick kiss, "And an honor it is to serve you, my princess - I do wonder, though," Taren said, standing and looking down at the short, round princess, "When, my princess, will you become a queen? Why have you not chosen a suitor?"
The sugar plum princess smiled gently to her adviser, reaching up on her tip-toes to straighten his tie, "Oh, Taren... there just isn't anyone else I'd rather be with right now."
"Else? Your Majesty? Anyone else? What does that mean?" Taren asked, watching as the stout, fruity princess sauntered from the throne room and into the long hallways. "Y-your Majesty?!" Is there someone she hasn't told us about? Perhaps a secret affair? This can't be good...
Mordecai walked into the kitchen and saw that his tortoise servant was standing on a wooden stool near his stove. The air smelled sweet and tart - a lemon pie was being made and it smelled as if it were baked to perfection. The tortoise adjusted his glasses while closing a cookbook and stepped down from the stool to open the oven's door.
"That smells exquisite!" Mordecai praised, rubbing his hands together.
"Says in the book, Sir," the tortoise smiled, "that it's best served with steak and salad! I'm excited to sink my gums into..."
"No! This is for the princess, you idiot."
"Didn't you say you were making her a pie to become her husband?" the tortoise asked.
"You weren't listening at all, were you?" Mordecai hissed, "I'm making her this pie and poisoning it with this magical serum - the lemons in the pie will taste so sour that all of her juiciness will shrivel and dry out, leaving her to be nothing but a prune! A has-been! She'll become so hideous that nobody will find her attractive!"
"Oh yes," the tortoise confirmed, "then she'll become desperate and accept your marriage proposal when she feels like she'll never be pretty enough for marriage."
"Exactly! You were paying attention after all - that's a first," Mordecai laughed, smoothing out his long, green wizard robe. His aged face turned into a scowl again as he brought a finger to his chin in thought, "Now... we must disguise you and get you into the palace without the guards and adviser knowing who you are."
"Should I add some whipped cream to the...oorf!" the tortoise tripped into the bowl of whipped cream before him, covering his chin and nose in cream. As he leaned back up and cleaned his glasses off, he chuckled, "Oh, woops... haha - guess I'm almost ready to be a chocolate turtle. Get it, Boss? Chocolate..."
"Ah, you're a genius sometimes!" Mordecai smiled to his reptilian companion, grabbing him by the hand and leading him to a chest in the kitchen. Opening the chest, Mordecai revealed an old, tattered, patched up apron and an old book bag full of cook books. "Put these on - the apron will make you look like a baker and the book bag will hide your shell. With that whipped cream beard, you'll look like that baker from the center of the kingdom's market!"
The tortoise slipped on the costume and stumbled to the pie on the counter. Holding it in one hand, he had to lift the apron a little just to be able to walk. "You think this'll really work?"
"I know it will, if you don't mess it up," Mordecai scowls, "Just stay in character and follow this plan. Go to the palace, ask to see the princess, got it?"
"Okay, then what?"
"Then, once you're invited inside, ask the princess if she'd like to sample your new lemon pie - free of charge!"
"Free?" the tortoise complained, "This took me a long time to get right! Why... it was pretty hard!"
"Just...do it."
"Y-yes, Sir!" the tortoise gulped, "Well... w-when should I go, Sir?"
"Right now! Now, now, now!" Mordecai shrieked, confident that his plan would truly work.
Taren paced back and forth outside the princess' chambers, unsure on how to go about this task. It'd be a difficult one - someone as sweet and caring, and someone as beautiful as the sugar plum princess must be approached with ease and confidence. In the middle of his thoughts on the matter, Taren is approached himself - by a guard.
"Sir, the baker - the man from the market center is here to see the princess," said the guard.
"Ah - the tortoise with the amazing pies! I'm sure the princess would love to see him," Taren smiled, turning to the princess' door and knocking gently, his cherry taffy knuckles flattening as he knocked - their shape returned, however, much like memory foam. "Your highness?" Taren called softly, "Your highness, are you decent?"
"Yes, Taren! Do come in, I'm only polishing my skin," the princess replied.
Taren opened the door and saw the princess sitting before a white vanity mirror, using a soft, microfiber cloth on her dark purple cheeks, rubbing in small circles, gently and carefully.
"I'm told there is a baker here to see you - that kind old man from the market center," Taren said.
"Oh! How nice!" the princess smiled, turning to face Taren, "What does he need from me, exactly?"
"Um... well... I wasn't told that part. Do you wish to see him anyway?"
"Of course. It's not easy for a man of his age to make it all the way here on foot," the princess giggled, hopping down from her vanity seat, "The last time we spoke, his means of transportation had been damaged. It'd be a shame to send him away."
Taren smiled at the princess' considerate kindness and bowed a bit, "As you wish, your highness."
"Taren... my goodness. We've been over this so many times. Plum is fine - no need to be so formal!" the princess giggled as she walked past Taren into the hallway, leaving him alone in her room.
"Ah," Taren said softly, "but you are not just a princess, Milady... you're my princess."
The tortoise is welcomed into the castle by two guards: an apple man and a bright red Macaw whose beak had a small chip in it.
"Goodness," the tortoise said, "what happened to your beak?!"
The parrot guard looked crossly to the tortoise, "A mere battle scar - what's left of an intruder who came to claim the princess by kidnapping her."
"What's... left?" the tortoise gulped.
"On your way, Baker."
The tortoise lifted the apron above his feet and walked quickly into the castle, the lemon pie in his available hand. As he entered, he saw the princess and her adviser waiting for his company. The princess smiled and waved happily as she began to approach him.
"Ah, my fine friend!" the princess smiled, "How are you? You must be exhausted... please, come in and let's have a chat - you've come all this way, it must be important!"
The adviser and the princess walk with the tortoise into a large, posh, comfortable looking room with a table of tea set and waiting.
"That is quite a pie you have with you, Sir," Taren said, standing until the princess sat down, soon following her actions, "It smells divine - a bit lemony."
"It is lemon!" the tortoise said, looking at the palm of his hand and reading, "I've made this pie... and... I want your open on it... o-opinion! I want your opinion on it."
"An opinion for a pie is why you came all this way?" the princess asked in curiosity, "It must be a very special pie."
"Oh, it is!" the tortoise said nervously, beginning to sweat beneath the whipped cream beard. "Um... if royalty could... stomach my pies, who is to say that the whole kingdom couldn't?" The tortoise's beard slowly begins to melt beneath his nervous body heat, dropping a blob onto the pie, dolloping it sloppily.
"Is that so... tortoise?" Taren said, standing, "Princess, this man is not the baker - his beard isn't real."
"Oh, so I see!" the princess said, leaning forward for a closer look, "Who are you then? Why would you deceive me over a pie?!"
"P-princess, I um... I work for... M-mordecai," the tortoise said nervously. "This pie... don't eat it. Please don't! It's cursed with some kind of serum and uh... it... would dry you out and..."
"Prune me!?" the princess panicked, "Mordecai - that wizard wanted to... to prune me?!"
"That's right!" Mordecai said, kicking the guards' unconscious bodies into the room and slamming the doors behind him. "I wanted you hideous! So ugly that nobody would marry you - but that won't be a problem now!"
Taren stood to his feet and drew a sword from his sheath, pointing it at Mordecai, "Do not take another step, Wizard! I will act accordingly and with force."
"Spare me your puppet talk, Taffy Man... you're candy. I could easily stretch you into a new robe if I so pleased!" Mordecai laughed as he drew his wand from his robe pocket, "Now, back away and give me the princess. I will rule this kingdom and everyone in it - perhaps with mercy if you cooperate."
"No!" Taren shouted, leaping forward and lunging at the wizard, stabbing his sword toward him, only to miss as Mordecai leaped aside.
Mordecai scowled as he drew his wand, flicking it hard, allowing balls of fire to spit from its tip. The fire spewed toward Taren like tiny meteors, melting a small portion of his left foot as he tried to leap out of the way. Taren quickly ran behind the wizard and slashed the back of his robe.
"Nobody will harm the princess! Nobody will dare touch the woman I love!" Taren shouted as he lunged toward Mordecai's wand, knocking it out of his hands.
"Aw, isn't that touching?" Mordecai laughed, looking at his tortoise servant, sitting scared in a comfortable chair, "And you! You failed me... you're as good as dead! Just as the rest of these imbeciles will be!"
"You won't harm anyone here! I'll die protecting them, you foul old man!" Taren growled, "This is where your evil ends, old wizard! You were banned from this kingdom for a reason!"
"Just try and stop me, gummy boy."
Taren leaped forward, stabbing his sword downward, missing Mordecai as he dodged the attack. Mordecai looked to the princess and began running toward her, only to be stopped by the last person he'd ever expect to be against him - his tortoise servant. The tortoise quickly ripped off the apron and covered Mordecai's head, forcing Mordecai to trip and stumble. Afraid, the tortoise ducked into his shell, hoping for this all to be over soon.
The princess quickly ran to the tortoise, picking him up and carrying him to a corner of the room behind a large, decorative vase, hiding with him until the fight was over. Taren and Mordecai were left to their own vises as Mordecai struggled to get the apron off of himself. Taren, panting and angry, approached the entangled wizard and aimed his sword downward at him.
"I could end your life right now," Taren panted, "I could kill you and your evil attempts would be nothing - not even history." Taren looked up at his princess, cowering in the corner with the tortoise, who peeked a bit out of his shell, "but that is not the nature of this kingdom. The nature of this kingdom is kindness, safety, justice, and most of all... sweetness."
"What... what is wrong with you?" Mordecai panted, flipping over to a sitting position, "Are you that whipped?! Are you taffy or are you pudding!?"
"I'm neither," Taren said, sheathing his sword and offering a hand to help Mordecai to his feet, "I'm just a person."
Mordecai, confused, grabbed ahold of Taren's sticky, red, cherry taffy hand and was helped to his feet. Mordecai looked at Taren with anger and curiosity, wondering if it would be wise to test him.
"I could kill you right now, Taffy Man..."
"Then I would proceed to defend myself and the woman I love," Taren replied. "Either you show yourself out, or I shall have my guards place you in the dungeon - rightfully where you belong."
"Dungeons are so filthy..." the wizard scowls, "Come!" Mordecai called to the tortoise, "We're leaving... time for plan B."
"N-no!" the tortoise wimpered, shivering in the princess' arms as she slowly brought him into the open, out of the corner of the room, "No! You're mean... you're wicked and mean, and I'm sorry, but your plans never work and they're ridiculous."
"I have to agree, Mordecai..." the princess said, "A whipped cream beard? Sweety... that's... very impractical."
"Shut up!" Mordecai shouted to the princess, "Nobody asked you! And... and you!" Mordecai faced Taren, "You love her?! Good luck - she's turned down every single person in this whole disgusting kingdom! You're no different - you have as much of a chance as a squashed piece of gum under a bridge!"
"Guards..." Taren sighed, looking at the princess with sadness, "Guards... take him away..."
Two guards, a strong, tan, handsome soldier and a long, slender boa entered the room, leading Mordecai out of the room. Kicking and screaming, Mordecai fussed and taunted Taren until he was out of sight.
The night was chilly and silent. Taren left the tortoise's room, seeing as he would now be a servant of the castle, treated well with respect, proper care, food, and most of all, comfort and hospitality. Traveling the halls, Taren relieved the day guards of their duties and assigned night guards to their posts. After having finished the task, he approached the princess' bedroom door.
Taren knocked softly, "Princess... may I speak with you?"
"Come in, Taren."
Taren slowly opened the door and saw the round, supple princess sitting upright in her bed, reading a book. She placed the book down and looked up to her adviser.
"What can I do for you?" she asked.
"Princess... I... what I said earlier..." Taren said, "About... you... being the woman I love."
"Yes, Taren..." the princess smiled. "I meant that... I love you, Princess. I believe that... that maybe... if ever you felt the time was... right..." Taren said nervously, "Perhaps... you would find it beneficial to... see me as your... p-partner. Your husband..."
The princess smiled to Taren and could feel her fleshy cheeks harden and ripen with blush. Her dark purple flesh made it easier to hide, however. So she simply smiled to her adviser, picking up her book again.
"I understand, Taren. Thank you for telling me."
"I... um... yes. Well... goodnight, Princess."
"Goodnight, Taren," the princess said, watching Taren leave and close her door. She picked up a pen on her nightstand and brought it to the book in her hands, writing: "Dear Diary - so he does like me! I think I'll finally do it."