The Slipper and the Rose: The Story of Cinderella

1

Why do they always

sound so many trumpets?

I'm not Jehovah.

Why can't a prince

come home without a fuss?

Presumably because

he is a prince, sir.

Other people can sneak in

the back way unannounced,

which is how

it should be.

What are you

smiling at?

Oh, was

I smiling, sir?

Just the sudden warmth

cracking my face.

A prince's lot is

nothing more than a bore.

Your face cracks

rather easily, doesn't it?

Now, you mark

my words,

before you

can count to 10,

through that door,

with the odious punctuality

of our neighbor's

much vaunted,

recently invented, hideously

irritating cuckoo clock,

will come our dear

and loyal subject,

the ever-unctuous

lord high Chamberlain.

5, 6...

7!

He's improving.

One of these days,

he's going to achieve

the elusive

10-minute mile.

Ha ha ha ha!

Your royal highness.

Ah, welcome home.

Welcome home,

your royal highness.

My lord high Chamberlain,

what an unexpected

pleasure.

I am commanded by

his majesty the king,

your father,

and her majesty

the queen, your mother--

yes, yes, now,

don't tire yourself,

I am acquainted

with them.

How are my

doting parents?

Their majesties are naturally

most anxious to hear

such glad tidings

I feel sure you bear

concerning your recent

absence from the court.

Namely, the matter

of your acceptance of

and betrothal to the princess

selina of carolsfeld.

Indeed, in anticipation

of such wonderful news,

his majesty the king

has decided to make you

a knight grand cross

of the most illustrious order

of Saint David the martyr.

Which is usually

awarded posthumously.

A suitable honor,

as it happens,

for the matter of my betrothal

is very status quo.

I did not find the lady of

your choice to be my choice.

Oh, but, sir--

we are returned...

As we departed.

The king I'm sure,

and indeed my dear mama

will share

your noticeable grief.

Indeed, sir,

the whole court will be grieved.

Well, so be it.

Any simple peasant is

afforded the ability

in love...

To win or lose

while I of the nobility

am robbed of the facility

to choose

any serf or servant

can by natural selection

elect himself a mate

if she's amenable

but due to my high breeding,

I'm continually acceding

to demands

I find increasingly

untenable

all I ask, and it's a

simple enough request--

well, follow me,

by all means, follow me.

I wish to know,

I demand to know...

Why can't I be

two people?

Why can't I live

two roles?

Why can't one of me perform

all the cloying amenities ti

while the other me,

twin brother me

be a free and happy soul?/

why can't I be

two people?

Split myself right in half

then I could satisfy

and mollify

and pacify and qualify

while the other me

would have

a hell of

a healthy laugh, ha? '11

the custom of royalty

in referring to oneself

is to naturally employ

the royal "we

"we are very happy" si

y, we are very sad I

we are bored

and suffer from ennui"

for a royal prince,

there's no such word as me"

it's always "we

so, rightfully, I

should be two on three

don't you agree?

It's not for me to say,

your royal highness.

Perhaps not.

So, I ask myself...

Why can't I be

two people?

Why can't I play

two parts?

Why can't one of me endure

the appalling formalities

while the other me,

twin brother me

have a free

and happy heart?

If I could be

two people

life would not

pass me by

I'd have a chance

to pick and choose

I'd have a chance

to win or lose

and maybe one of us

would have a chance to live...

Before we die!

Die? Who's died?

Ah! At last!

Our dear son.

We are... we are...

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes