Spring rolls and egg foo yong

 “And then we spoke of kids on the coast
and different types of organic soup”

- Lou Reed – Wild Child

 

Susan opens her bag and pulls out two cigarettes and a lighter. She puts one of them in my mouth and lights it.

‘I was thinking we could get Chinese tonight,’ she says while she lights hers.

‘Not a bad idea,’ I reply, ‘Where?’

‘I don’t know. Do you have a favourite Chinese?’

‘Do you mean in Southampton or in general?’

‘In Southampton, obviously.’

‘Oh. No, not really.’

I wish she would ask me about my favourite Chinese in general. It is in Tampere, Finland. It is open twenty-four hours a day, but no matter what time I went there the same two men would be working there. Whatever you ordered from the menu, they never had it. You had to list every dish you wouldn’t mind eating until you came across one that they were willing to make. Sometimes this didn’t happen at all, and it would get to the point where they were forced to tell you they only had rice, peppers, bean sprouts and onions left. Once you’d ordered that, they gave you a pink plastic watering can. On my first visit I genuinely started to worry what it was that was expected of me, but it turned out to be a jug of water to drink with the food. All the furniture was covered in sturdy see-through plastic, and there was a sign on the wall saying that if you wanted to take any leftover food home you were free to put it in the plastic drinking cups.

I follow her into the house and wait while she walks through the kitchen and into the shed in the garden.

‘Come over here, I can’t carry it all by myself,’ she calls out.

‘Jesus Christ it’s bloody heavy,’ I say as I grab the other end of it. She’s wrapped it all in bin bags and tied them together with some string.

‘Ok wait,  I’ll put the car right near the shed and then we only have to carry it out of here and into the boot.’

We just about manage to get it into the car before I would’ve dropped it.

‘I’m going to bring a saw just in case,’ says Susan.

 

‘How long do you reckon it takes driving to the New Forest?’ I ask her while she’s looking through her bag for the car keys.

‘About thirty minutes?’

‘I guess we’ll be home by about 7 then? I’m just thinking about whether I should bring something to eat.’

‘Nah, it won’t take that long, we’ll get the Chinese on the way back.’

I open the window as we drive down Portswood Road, past the dodgy-looking chip shop next to the church.

 

‘Have you ever been to the open mic night in there?’ Susan asks as we drive past the Talking Heads.

‘No, I should really go.’

‘I once went to this other open mic night with this guy I knew, Tommy,’ she says,  ‘He wanted to become a blues musician, but he couldn’t really play solos on the guitar, only Ramones songs, so he bought a harmonica instead. There turned out to be a whole subculture of blues fanatics in Chichester, besides Tommy and one other teenage boy they were all men in their thirties and forties. One of them told me to get them some beer while they discussed which songs to play, because ‘playing the blues is men’s business’. Then a rumour spread that the local blues legend, a man called Little Boogie Boy might show up. This made Tommy so nervous he smoked all of the weed he brought in one go, but the joint burned too fast because he didn’t add enough tobacco and he burnt his lip on it, so it hurt when he had to play the harmonica. When Little Boogie Boy finally turned up it turned out he was this fat white guy, he looked a bit like Chevy Chase.’

‘How pathetic! I hate men who are into blues. Maybe even more than I hate men who are into classic rock, and think that women only pretend to like the same music as them because they want to fuck them,’ I say.

‘Yes, you got me, I spent lots of money buying expensive vinyl records and limited edition Led Zeppelin t-shirts just so I could shag a spotty creep with a hairline that starts at the back of his head.’

The smell from the boot seems to be getting stronger, I light a cigarette to try and neutralise it.

We drive into the area of the forest, and Susan wonders where to park the car.

‘The thing is,’ she says, ‘if we park in a car park no one will notice us. But then we have to carry it all the way there.’

‘I could barely carry it into your car. I think we’ll just have to risk it and drive into woods a little.’

We turn into a muddy path and drive on for a few more minutes until we’ve reached a dense part of the forest.

Susan opens the boot and takes out the two shovels, and the big saw.

‘Ok, I didn’t bring this up beforehand because I was afraid you might find it a little too much, but I think we should cut off his head first,’ she says.

I contemplate this for a second, pushing my sunglasses back into my hair, ‘Do you think that will make it harder if someone finds him?’

‘Yeah, I guess. Mostly I’ve just always wanted to see a severed head.’

‘Fair enough.’

We dig the hole first, the ground is moist and sticky so it is harder than I expected. The wooden handle of my shovel rubs into my skin, so I wrap my scarf around it.

‘I wish we had some ice cream,’ I sigh.

‘I know!’ says Susan, ‘We could drive by Sprinkles later?’

‘I think they might close early, it’s a bank holiday.’

‘I wish they delivered.’

I stop digging and lean on my shovel for a second, ‘I’m not sure if delivering ice cream would really work, wouldn’t it melt?’

‘They could just have a some sort of device and a freezer bit in the back to make the ice cream for you on the spot.’

‘That exists though. You just invented the ice cream van.’

‘Oh yeah...’ she says.

‘I think the hole is deep enough now?’

She nods. ‘Ok, time to get dirty.’

A strong odour of death escapes as she opens the boot, and I tie the scarf around my face. We pull out the body, and I watch as she puts on latex gloves and removes the bin bags. The dried up blood around the stab wounds in his chest looks brown and crusty, and there are a number of flies crawling around his eyes and mouth.

‘If you just put on some gloves and hold him steady, I’ll have a go at the sawing,’ she says as she grabs the saw.

It’s a simple hand saw and I’m not sure how easy it will be. The talcum powder in the gloves makes my skin crawl. I kneel and lean down on his chest to hold him steady.

I expected blood to flow when she starts sawing, but there is none. She cuts through the flesh easily, but the bone puts up more of a struggle. The saw slowly cutting through it makes an awful chirpy sound that makes me grind my teeth.

 

‘Do you already know what you’re going to order?’ she asks.

 ‘Definitely spring rolls. Ooh and maybe egg foo yong.’

‘With egg fried rice?’

‘Yes, obviously. You?’

‘Crispy duck pancakes. And something that involves chicken.’

‘I’m so hungry now.’

I didn’t realise it was that far along, but suddenly she pulls the head off entirely.

‘Haha!’ She holds it in the air triumphantly, a piece of flesh falls out and lands on my foot.

She waves it around a little.

‘It looks weird,’ I say, ‘ Like, his mouth is open a little. He looks surprised or confused.’

‘He probably is mate, he’s dead! Hahahaha!’

I watch as she puts the head aside on the bin bags, and gives the rest of the body a slight kick so it rolls into the grave we dug for it.

 ‘Ok so if, hypothetically, the zombie apocalypse happens anytime soon. Do you think he would come out without his head?’ I ask her.                                                                                                                                                                       

‘I don’t think so, I’ve never seen a zombie without a head. To be fair though, I don’t think a real zombie apocalypse would have zombies coming out of their graves, that’s not very realistic at all. It’d probably be some infectious disease. You know, like in 28 Days Later.’

I ponder this for a few seconds, while I throw some dirt into the hole, ‘What do you think would happen if the zombie apocalypse happened like, tomorrow?’

‘I guess everyone dies eventually? Then there will just be cockroaches. And Keith Richards.’

‘Yeah, I guess he’s been around forever.’

‘He survived taking more drugs than anyone in the world, he will survive the apocalypse.’

‘Yeah, I guess he must have done quite a bit of drugs in his days.’

‘He snorted his dad’s ashes.’

‘Oh you mean Keith Richards! I was thinking of Cliff Richard. It seemed strange that he’d have done drugs, but I figured he probably did in the sixties and everything.’

We’ve buried him quite sufficiently now. Susan is trying to flatten the bump of dirt a little, to make it look natural.

‘Ok,’ she says, ’If it’s someone really hot, like I don’t know, Ryan Gosling or Zooey Deschanel, would you still have sex with them if they were zombies?’

‘Hmm...’ An interesting question, for sure. ‘Zooey Deschanel, yes. I never really got into Gosling. Tom Hiddleston though, I would probably still do if he didn’t have a head.’

‘But then how could you tell it was him! It could be any relatively toned guy!’

‘No but if you knew it was him.’

‘How? He told you without a mouth?’

‘If there was some sort of proof that it was him. What about you then?’

‘You mean who would I have sex with if they didn’t have a head?’

‘Or if they were a zombie in general. You can pick two.’

‘I’m gonna have to go with Jennifer Lawrence and the girl who plays Santana in Glee. They would have to have heads though.’

‘Look, I’m not saying I would prefer it if Tom Hiddleston didn’t have a head. But you’ve got to take into account the narrative value of it.’

‘The what?’

‘You know, sexual encounters can have a narrative value. When you sleep with your new boyfriend, you do it because you’re in love. When you do it with a random hot stranger, you do it out of lust. But when you do it with, say, Jeremy Kyle? You do it for the narrative value. That is a story you can tell for the rest of your life. And Tom Hiddleston without a head definitely has a high narrative value.’

‘With this kind of reasoning, you might as well sleep with like... Boris Johnson.’

‘Imagine though! The narrative value of Boris Johnson is through the roof!’

‘I guess I would sleep with that guy who sang Gangnam Style for the narrative value.’

‘That’s an excellent example. Imagine in twenty years, you could tell someone ‘I once had sex with Psy,’ and they would be like ‘who the hell is that?’ and you could start singing Gangnam Style and everyone would be like ‘no way!’

‘Also, Miranda Hart.’

‘The guy from LMFAO with the cardboard box on his head.’

‘The guy from the Old Spice adverts.’

‘Bonnie Tyler.’

 

We drive off, the head in a bin bag on the backseat.

‘What are we going to do with it?’ I ask.

‘I’m not sure, I thought we could throw it in the sea somewhere, but now I think I might keep for a while first.’

‘Keep it? It smells awful!’

‘I mean in the freezer.’

‘What about your housemates, won’t they find it?’

‘I was thinking I could put it in an old bag of oven chips.’

‘Oh yeah, or maybe a bag of frozen spinach.’

‘If I lived on my own, I would just leave it in the garden and see what happens to it. Maybe take pictures to document to process.’

‘Then you could keep the skull once all of the flesh is gone.’

‘Oh my God! That is the best idea! I’m going to remove the flesh, keep the skull, and paint it purple. I will put it on a shelf, and everyone will think it is some kind of novelty item I bought at Urban Outfitters.’

‘I think if you boil it the skin comes off, I’ve seen it on CSI.’

‘Well there you go, I will boil it and have a pet skull. I think I’m going to call it Raymond.’

‘It’s interesting that the skull would have like, a separate identity once it’s only a skull.’

‘Yeah man, Raymond will be a big improvement. He won’t smell of after shave for starters, and he won’t be into panel shows with Jimmy Carr.’

‘He won’t wear fleece jumpers.’

‘He couldn’t if he wanted to, because he doesn’t have a body.’

‘He won’t listen to U2 and insist that you just don’t get them.’

‘He won’t listen to anything because he doesn’t have any ears.’

‘He won’t tell you to stop listening to Rihanna and get into some ‘proper music’.

‘He won’t tell me anything, because he doesn’t have a fucking mouth.’

 

When we come home, Susan’s housemates are all in the kitchen so we leave the head in the car for now, on the floor under the passenger seat.

We order two portions of egg fried rice, twelve vegetarian spring rolls, plain egg foo yong, crispy duck pancakes, and broccoli chicken.

 

Eyebrow makeover

I am having some trouble getting started on my Creative Writing assignment, so I decided to procrastinate by reshaping my eyebrows. I used to pluck them to death into two tiny stripes, but the past two years or so I had pretty much just let them grow into their natural shape and only plucked a few stray hairs. They had been bothering me a little lately though, the shape just wasn't quite right and they were looking kind of boring to me. So I spent the entire day browsing (haha BROWsing) beauty blogs and pinterest photos to get some inspiration, and I decided that what I wanted was just eyebrows that were pointy but not too thin. So I plucked and pencilled away and there they are :D They could be a little bit more even, but I will hopefully get used to the shape and be able to draw them more perfectly.

 As most people who know me will confirm, I loooooove make-up and can talk about it for hours (luckily I have a girlfriend and a bff who share this obsession) so here are some products that I like:

1. Sleek Storm palette. This is one of the best things I've ever bought, all of the colours are just gorgeous and you can use it for simple every day looks as well as more dramatic ones. I plan on buying their Original palette as well before I have to leave the UK aka Land Of Amazing Make-up Brands.

2. Hema Foundation, shade 01. (Hema is a Dutch department store where I used to work, they do loads of really good reasonably priced make-up). I have a hard time finding foundation that I like because my skin is extremely white and anything that's too dark will make me look like a complete idiot, but I also don't want to look even paler. This Hema one in the lightest shade is not too thick so my actual skin can shine through a bit.

3. Barry M Lip Paint, Sunset (shade 151). I love coral lipstick because it's slightly more original than plain red and it matches my extreme paleness a bit better. Barry M is another UK brand that I will miss terribly next year and I plan to buy as much of it as possible in the next two months.

4. Rimmel Extra Super Lash mascara. I could never really settle on a mascara, each one I tried was a little too lumpy, not thick enough or it'd get all over my face. But then Cécile recommended this one and it is seriously fantastic. If want my lashes to be, as someone on tumblr put it, 'as black as my soul and as long as the list of people I hate', and this mascara is perfect for that worthy goal.

5. Topshop kohl pencil. This is a really good pencil, it's not too soft and it stays on really well without going all over the place. Also it looks cute with the polkadots :D

6. Barry M Liquid Eyeliner. To be honest this isn't a perfect eyeliner as it could be a bit blacker. I usually need to layer it a little to get my cat-eye stripe to be perfectly black, but it does stay on pretty well and dries quickly enough, and I haven't been able to find one I like better yet.

7. Maybelline Dream Touch Blush, shade 05. I love this blusher! It's the perfect colour and if you blend it well enough it looks just like natural rosy cheeks. It looks like a tiny pot but I've bought it last August and it is not even nearly half empty and I use it almost every day.

8. Etos Eyebrow Pencil, shade 002. The only eyebrow pencil I've ever been able to find that has just the right touch of ginger to match my hair. Etos is a Dutch drugstore that does pretty good make-up, their moisturising lipsticks are also really awesome.

Celebrate Summer

The weather is finally improving! I can't wait until it will finally be properly summer so in the meantime I thought a lot about what I might wear.

Do You Think That It's Ok If I Bring Some Friends To A Party

I was just folding up some clean clothes when suddenly I remembered Jann Wilde. Jann Wilde is a Finnish musician that I used to be really into, and actually never quite stopped being into but just kind of didn't think about for a while. But Jann Wilde deserves to be thought about. Because he had this amazing song that starts with my favourite line in the world.

" I say we should get together, because our love is like pink leather"

I once went to see him in a small café in Tampere while I was visiting my Finnish friend. It was amazing. 

He was always my ultimate musical secret, the artist that no one had ever heard about and that I would try to impress people with (which obviously didn't work because no one takes my taste in music seriously.)

He changed his look to something a little less flamboyant, but I will always love him the most in a one-shoulder glitter unitard trying to get onto Eurovision like in this video which refuses to embed

He also had amazing two-toned hair and he manages to sing like Bowie, Johnny Rotten and Elvis in once song:

 Just take my word on this one guys, this is is something you want to listen to. His amazing music doesn't seem to be on Spotify, but youtube is bursting with it.

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

  

I finally acquired a time machine! I can't go into specifics on how it came into my possession, but I've certainly been making the most of it. The first thing that I did was of course take my girlfriend and my best mate to see David Bowie in the 70s. We wore an appropriate amount of glitter:

The 70s are an excellent era, I took Cat again the next week to go and see T.rex.

Then I went to see Cécile in Brighton and we went to an underground party in the 80s:

 

 And to get a milkshake in the 50s:

The next stop is going to be the 1880s because I want to meet Oscar Wilde!

Everybody have a good time, everybody have a crush

I reckon it's time for an update with pictures! And the best kind of picture is a slightly creepy, heavily edited webcam selfie.

As some of you may know I have acquired a girlfriend:

 
 Her name is Cat and she is amazing. Basically I'm one of those annoying happy people who is in love now

Also, I went to see The Darkness 3 times! Do I even need to tell you that it was amazing and worth flying home to Amsterdam and driving all the way to Manchester in an English car?

I had a nice chat with Justin in Amsterdam. Note the fist of Queen.

Then I went to Manchester and was finally reunited with the amazing Dan Hawkins

And then I went to London and drank wine on some steps with my friend George and then Ed Graham showed up. My face has disappeared unfortunately.

Manchester was not only a Darkness adventure, it was also an Anna, Cécile, Babs and Rose adventure (the theme of this post is pictures of me with beautiful people)

And this is me and my housemate Melanie at a really cool 60s-themed party called Itchy Feet. I seem to have taken some bad acid and turned blue.

 

And last and also least this is me in Paris before Christmas, photographed by Lisa. My outfit is semi-awesome if I may say so myself.

Cinderella ♥ Snow-White

(I wrote this for my creative writing class, the assignment was to do a retelling of a fairytale/myth and of course I made it gay and put stupid jokes in there)

‘Alright Cindy, we’re off now, probably won’t be back until about 7 so would you mind having some food ready for us when we come back? And don’t just order pizza again, I’m not exactly made of money.’ 

Cinderella didn’t have time to answer before her stepmother ran down the stairs.

‘I am not responsible for my reaction if you call me Cindy,’ she said, ‘You call me Cinderella, or Ella, or NOTHING.’

 About a year ago, Cinderella and her dad moved in with his new wife and her two daughters, Anastasia and Drizella. She wrote a lot about it on her blog.

‘I thought it was going to be great to have a whole new family, but to be honest it’s been a bit of a disappointment so far. My dad is away for business all the time, and my stepmom is taking my stepsisters to their pageants every weekend so very often it’s just me left in the house taking care of the cat and doing the dishes and everything. My dad said I could probably have the big bedroom in the attic, but they’ve been using it to store Ann and Driz’s old pageant dresses so I stay in the spare room now. I’ve made it look cosy with a load of pictures I cut out from magazines on the wall. I found a great one of Anne Hathaway at the Oscars the other day, wearing that beautiful silky white dress. I just wish I had some exciting things to look forward to you know? A party where I could wear a really nice dress and some amazing shoes, or just a night out in town, but I haven’t really had the chance to make new friends around here. I did get a facebook invitation for this ball yesterday. It’s organised by a guy called Prince Charming, he’s supposed to be a really big deal. Ann and Driz are probably going, but I don’t really have anything to wear so I guess I’ll just stay in and catch up on some fashion blogs.’

Cinderella switched off the computer and opened her closet. She let her hands touch the fabric of the clothes, and they all felt rough and washed. 

~

 ‘Snow-White, you are NOT going out in these clothes! You poor dead mother and father would be ashamed if they saw you now!’

‘You know nothing about my parents you idiot, I wear whatever I want.’

‘Do NOT talk to me like that!’

Snow-White ran back up the stairs before her stepmother could see her angry tears. Yesterday she hadn’t been sure, she had felt a twinge of sympathy for the old woman endlessly fighting the aging process getting stuck with, let’s face it, one hot piece of stepdaughter. But today she knew she had to get away. She carefully wiped the tears from her eyes as not to ruin her eyeliner, and looked in the mirror. Her yellow shorts, blue tank top and red shiny Doc Marten boots made her feel like a superhero, the primary colours somehow creating a powerful unity. 

‘I can do this,’ she said out loud. 

She stuffed some more clothes into her backpack and climbed out the window, hopping onto the roof of the shed and then onto the ground. She ran away without looking back.

~

Cinderella let herself fall face down on the bed. She’d just cooked, done the dishes and made the beds, and then just when she had wanted to settle down and watch a few Sex And The City reruns her stepmother had asked her to tidy the living room so it would make a nice background for the pictures of Anastasia and Drizella in their hideous dresses for the ball. They were probably in line to get in now, desperate to impress that Prince Charming bloke. 

She pulled herself up and opened her laptop. If no one wants to listen to you in real life, there’s always twitter.

@CinderellaLovesShoes I wish I could go to that stupid ball just so I could wear an insane dress!! #fml

As she balanced her computer on the side of her bed to stare at some pictures of what she might have worn, she heard someone walking up the stairs with clicking heels. 

@CinderellaLovesShoes omg someone is in my house??!! SCARED!! I hope it’s my stepmum coming back early?

Just as she hit enter her door flung open, and a tall lady in a floor length purple dress appeared. She hit her wig on the doorframe as she came in. 

‘Well hello girl! Now I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like a sloppy hot mess! Let’s get those clothes off of you and get you into a truly sickening outfit!’

 ‘Who are you?’

‘I am your Fairy Drag Mother, of course! I help young girls and boys who just want to look fabulous! I saw your tweet about wanting to go to the ball, and I came over as soon as I could. Now tell me, what is it that you want to wear?’

‘You’re taking me to the ball?’

‘No honey, you’re going to the ball by yourself, I’m just here to provide the fashion extravaganza. Let’s start with the dress. What is it you’re going for?’

‘Well, which dresses do you have?’

‘Any dress you want darling, when I snap my fingers you’ll be wearing it.’

‘Could you make it an asymmetrical silver sequin dress? Just above the knee?’

‘I like the way you think!’ 

Fairy Drag Mother snapped her fingers and a cloud of glitter enveloped Cinderella. When it disappeared, she was wearing the exact dress she had been imagining.

‘Thank you so much Fairy Drag Mother! I’ve never worn anything as pretty as this!’

‘Oooh you’re not done yet, you’re gonna need a pair of shoes. And I need to add some volume to your hair!’

‘I want a pair of 6 inch platform heels! Made of transparent Perspex! With spikes on the nose!’

‘Your wish is my command. Work it girl!’

After another outburst of glitter settled down on the floor, Cinderella was wearing the shoes. Her long blonde hair was more wavy and shiny than it had ever been, and her lips were the colour of a ripe cherry. 

‘I look amazing! I can’t wait to get to the ball! Will there be a chariot made of glitter to take me there? With four white unicorns?’

‘Girl, let’s not overdo it ok? I’ve had to downsize drastically because of the recession. I’ll call you a taxi.’

‘Is there nothing I have to do in return?’

‘There is one condition... you have to return before midnight. Your fantabulous dress will turn back into that pathetic onesie you were wearing. Don’t be late! Now sashay away!’

~

Snow-White cracked open another can of Strongbow and sat down on the side of the sofa next to her friend Dopey.

‘Thank you so much for letting me stay here man, I really wouldn’t have known where else to go, and if I stayed at home with my stepmum another day I would have gone insane,’ she said. 

‘Hey no problem! It’s nice to have a girl around you know, living with six other guys can get pretty intense,’ he said.

‘It’s really cool that you got a house with your band though! Have you settled on a band name yet?’

‘Yeah, we’re called The Seven Dwarfs now. Because we’re all quite short you know?’

‘Haha, that’s brilliant!’

‘Hey, this weird old lady came to the house today and sold us some X. Do you want any?’

She felt her heart start to beat faster. She’d never done drugs before, but what the hell right? 

‘Yeah sure, thanks!’

Dopey handed her a small red pill with a picture of an apple on it. She could feel the adrenaline rushing through her as she swallowed it. 

‘Did Sneezy tell you about this insane party tonight? There’ll be some really good bands on. ’ he said.

‘That sounds amazing, when are we leaving?’

In the next hour, things happened to Snow-White rather than with her. She had a vague recollection of walking into town with the Seven Dwarfs all decked out in their leather jackets and ripped up jeans, and she was sure she had been in a bar, and there had been music, but now she just wanted to go outside, get some air, maybe have a cigarette, or just sit down, or... The pavement felt cold against her cheek, but comforting. 

‘I’m just gonna lay here for a bit... everything is going to be fine...’ 

~

@CinderellaLovesShoes on my way to the ball in THE most amazing outfit I’ve ever worn! Thank you so much @FairyDragMother!!!

Cinderella put her phone back into her bag and looked out the window of the car at the people standing outside the pubs smoking and talking. When the taxi took a turn, she spotted her. A girl with short black hair, seemingly unconscious, laying on the floor. 

‘Stop the car! We need to help that girl!’ she called out. 

‘I’m not taking her into the taxi love, she’ll be sick all over the seats,’ the driver said.

‘Well fine let me out then, I’m not just going to leave her there to die!’

Cinderella wobbled slightly on her heels as she stepped out and kneeled down next to the girl.

‘Hey, are you alright? Are you awake?’

The girl tried to lift her head and Cinderella pulled her up to sit. 

‘What the fuck man, what happened?’

‘I don’t know, I just saw you laying there all on your own and I wanted to help. I’m Cinderella. You can call me Ella.’

‘Alright Ella, thanks! Bollocks man, I took some xtc, it must have been bad. But I feel alright now actually, I guess passing out on the street did me good. Where are you going in that gorgeous outfit?’

‘I’m going to the ball! It’s hosted by Prince Charming. Did you hear about it?’

‘Prince Charming? I went to school with him. I hate that guy! Hey, can I come? That’d be such a laugh.’

Cinderella took a good look at Snow-White as she stood up. She had some holes in her tights and her red lipstick was a little smeared, but to her she was Joan Jett, she was a young Courtney Love, she was a raven haired Debbie Harry, she was the most beautifully rough punk princess she’d ever seen. 

She grinned. ‘Sure! Let’s go!’                

Everyone stared at the two girls as they walked into the ballroom. Cinderella dramatically flipped her hair as she walked past her stepsisters, awkwardly sipping their Diet Cokes in the corner. 

‘Woohoo, free booze! This night is turning out way better that I expected. Bottoms up!’ said Snow-White as she handed Cinderella a Jaegerbomb.

A boy in an ill-fitting smoking jacket and a fedora made his way towards them.

‘Well hello young lady I haven’t had the pleasure to meet yet. And hello Snow-White.’

He grabbed Cinderella’s hand and planted a kiss on it. ‘May I ask what your name is?’

‘Cinderella. You must be Prince Charming.’

‘Lovely to meet you. May I call you Cindy?’

‘No... no you may not actually,’ she said as she pulled her hand away.

‘Alright, can I get you ladies a drink?’

‘They’re free, mate,’ said Snow-White.

‘They’re free because I paid for them! This is my party you know.’

‘Alright, two Jaegerbombs then,’ said Cinderella. 

‘I told you,’ Snow-White whispered in her ear as he turned around to order the drinks, ‘complete and utter tosser.’

He handed Cinderella her drink, and put his arm around her waist. 

‘So why is it that I’ve never seen you before?’

‘Oi, get your hands of me!’ she said, and pushed him away.

‘Hey, do you know who you’re talking to? I organised this whole thing! Am I not good enough for you or something? Are you one of those bitches that doesn’t like nice guys?’

‘Actually,’ Cinderella said, ‘I’m one of those bitches that only likes other bitches. Bye bye now!’

While Prince Charming stormed off, Snow-White doubled over laughing. ‘Oh man I wouldn’t have missed that for the world. Let’s get another drink and go dancing!’

They danced together the whole night, only stopping sometimes to make fun of Prince Charming, but suddenly Cinderella froze and pulled out her phone.

‘Oh my God it’s a quarter to twelve! I need to get home before midnight!’ she cried out.

‘Why, are you on a curfew or something?’ 

‘Yes, kind of... yes, I just really need to go now.’

Cinderella ran outside to the taxi rank, nearly tripping in her heels.

‘Wait!’ Snow-White ran after her, ‘fuck curfews, the night is just starting!’

She caught up with Cinderella just as she tumbled forwards into the taxi.

‘I really need to go... but it was lovely to meet you.’

‘And you.’ Snow-White reached out to stroke her hair, but Cinderella pulled her in for a kiss. She gasped as she pulled away and shut the door of the car.

‘Bye bye my love...’

‘WAIT!’ Snow-White called out as the car pulled away, ‘You lost your shoe! And I didn’t get your number! Come back!’ 

But the taxi had driven off already, leaving Snow-White on her own, holding the Perspex shoe.

She mumbled to herself as she was walking home. ‘I will find her! I will ring the door on ever house in the city! I will ask every single person I meet if they know a Cinderella! I WILL find her!’

She opened the door and lay down on the sofa.

When she woke up the next morning she had a sudden epiphany. ‘I could just see if I can find her on facebook!’

Unfortunately Cinderella was a very popular name, so Snow-White didn’t get very far. But then it dawned on her. The shoe, the shoe was the key to finding her! She put it on the table and took a picture of it with her phone.

Snow-White Jones added a photo

ATTENTION, does anyone know a girl called Cinderella? She was at the ball yesterday and lost this shoe. I would like to give it back to her. Please share!

Only a few hours later, Cinderella had come across the photo of the shoe. The next day she came to The Seven Dwarfs’ house to pick it up. She never left.

They lived happily ever after. Except they couldn’t get married, because gay marriage wasn’t yet legalised in fairytale land.