Prince Valium (continued)
"Okay, then," you tell him.
"I'll take the gun with me."
The old man looks startled and studies you with a new eye.
When he shrugs and finally hands you the gun, he's frowning thoughtfully, as though rethinking his opinions about you.
He picks up his sack and swings it across his back before walking off.
"Farewell then," he says.
He doesn't smile.
He doesn't look back.
You say nothing, and you go home to get ready for the ball.
* * * * *
You're wearing your finest clothes, and you take one of your best carriages to the ball.
In one hand, you hold a bouquet of flowers.
In another, you hold the gun.
When your driver stops at the front steps, all your footmen run around and open the door for you, giving you the treatment and respect due a prince.
A red carpet unrolls out in front of you, and you follow it to the front gate.
And so you arrive.
When you enter through the front gate, however, a huge siren wails loudly throughout the grounds.
Before you know it, a small army of guards surround you and grab you by the arms.
They pat you down, take your gun and your flowers, and handcuff you; all the while, they are reading you your rights.
"What's going on?" you start to say.
You have not even gotten to the front door.
"You are under arrest," one of the officers inform you.
"Weapons are not allowed on Charming property."
What can you say?
They take you to be jailed, and as they stuff you into the wagon, you notice a beautiful carriage pull up.
The woman that emerges from it and heads for the ball is a stunning creature--Cinderella, dear beautiful Cindy.
Not for you, apparently.
She continues towards the ball, never noticing you, and as gorgeous as she is, you know that she will probably not be alone for very long.
You sigh.
