Andy Stanton - Natboff! One Million Years of Stupidity

Princess Snowflake’s parents had

mysteriously disappeared soon after she was born, and so it was that a bunch of kindly old witches had agreed to raise the child as their own. They lived with her in the Winter Palace, which was made entirely of ice. The chambers, the towers, even the door handles – everything was made of ice. The floors were a bit slippery, and it was best

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to put a blanket on the seat before you went to the toilet, but it was still a palace, so never mind.

On the whole, Princess Snowflake led a carefree life, as I have said. But one day, when she was five years old, one of the kindly old witches took her aside.

‘Child,’ said the witch. ‘I have something important to tell you. You know the Winter Gardens, which lie beyond the palace walls?

Well, they are very nice. But take heed, for

a dreadful fellow lurks deep within those

gardens, waiting to trap the unwary! It is the

Gypsy King, and he is strong, with rippling

muscles, and he wears hundreds of gold rings on

his fingers, and he has proud boots. Beware the

Gypsy King, child, beware the Gypsy King!’

But Princess Snowflake only clapped her hands together, one, two, three!

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‘Gypsy King?’ she laughed. ‘There’s no such thing as the Gypsy King! I don’t need your help, I don’t need anyone’s help!’

And off she ran to explore the gardens, for they were her greatest joy.

When Princess Snowflake was six years old, another of the kindly old witches took her aside.

‘Uh oh,’ said Princess Snowflake, ‘here we go again.’

‘Child,’ said the kindly old witch. ‘You

know the Winter Gardens? Well, they are

very nice. But from time to time they are visited

by one who seeks to harm the unwary! Yes, it is

the Gypsy King, and he is strong, with rippling

muscles, and he wears hundreds of gold rings

on his fingers, and he has proud boots.’

But Princess Snowflake only clapped her hands together, one, two, three!

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‘There’s no such thing as the Gypsy King!’ she laughed. ‘I don’t need your help, I don’t need anyone’s help!’

And off she went to raid the kitchens for her favourite cakes – marzipan disobediences. She didn’t like how they tasted, she just liked

the name. Princess Snowflake stuffed herself

silly with marzipan disobedience cakes, and off she ran to explore the gardens once more.

When Princess Snowflake was seven years old, another of the kindly old witches took her aside.

‘Child,’ said the kindly old witch. ‘You know the –’

But Princess Snowflake only clapped her hands together, one, two, three!

‘Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before,’ she said. ‘King of the Pixies or something, nasty

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bloke, don’t go near him, blah blah blah. I don’t

need your help, I don’t need anyone’s help!’

And off she ran to explore the gardens, slipping on the icy floor and almost colliding with a little hedgehog called Chomley.

With each passing year Princess Snowflake grew more reckless, wandering further and further into the gardens to explore. The witches despaired, but there was nothing to be done and in the end, they gave up even trying to keep her indoors. ‘For she has a mind of her own, that girl,’ said one. ‘Which is fine, it’s just that sometimes it’s quite an annoying mind.’

One day shortly after her eleventh birthday, Princess Snowflake was exploring a part of the gardens she hadn’t been in before, her faithful spaniel, Gooseberry, at her side. Merrily she skipped along, scoffing her marzipan

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disobediences, Chomley the hedgehog racing

after her to guzzle up the scraps.

Oh, how beautiful the gardens were! Waxy

green holly bushes lined the pathways, so that it

always felt like Christmas. Thick pines and fir trees

rose all around, like something from a picture

book, and the flowerbeds were bursting with

every sort of winter plant and herb imaginable:

snowdrops and white pansies; snapdragons and

turkeybane; Shoveller’s Delight and puff-puff-

mcguffs;inside-out Nigels, wizard-foot, beards of

Persia, frogleytumps, moth-whipper – and many

more besides. Everything sparkled with a layer of

diamond-dusty white, and the only sounds were

the crunching of the snow underfoot and the

soft breeze whispering in the branches.

At length, Princess Snowflake came to a

little wooden bench set back from the path,

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and there she sat herself down to watch the world go by. The witches had put up signs all around the bench, saying:

BEWARE THE GYPSY KING!

and

DANGER! THE GYPSY KING IS

KNOWN TO OPERATE IN THESE PARTS!

and

YOU’RE GOING TO REGRET NOT

READING THESE SIGNS ONE OF THESE

DAYS, YOUNG LADY, IN FACT I BET

YOU’RE NOT EVEN READING

THIS ONE RIGHT NOW, ARE YOU?

‘No, I’m not,’ said Princess Snowflake, which was true, because she wasn’t.

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Presently a deer bounded by with a big ‘D’

painted on its side. Then

another one with an

‘A’. Then another, with

an ‘N’. Then another,

with a ‘G’. Then

another, with an ‘E’. And then

one more, with an ‘R’ painted

on its side.

‘Oh, how

adorable,’ laughed Princess Snowflake, clapping her hands together, one, two,

three! ‘Those letters must be

the initials of each deer’s name! I bet they are called Daniel, Arthur, Neil, Georgina, Eleanor and Rum-

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Pum-Pum! Rum-Pum-Pum is my

favourite!’

While Princess Snowflake

had been sitting on the bench,

she had let Gooseberry off

his leash so that he could

go and do his business in

the bushes. (Gooseberry

ran a small and very

profitable furniture business

in the undergrowth,

selling small

tables and chairs

and suchlike to the

other animals.

Chomley the hedgehog

was one of his best

customers.)

‘Gooseberry!’ called

Princess Snowflake at

length. ‘Finish up your

business and come and walk with me

some more, there’s a good doggie!’

But no, there wasn’t a good doggie,

because Gooseberry did not come rushing out of the bushes as he normally did, barking and smiling and with dozens of silver coins spilling from his mouth. Gooseberry was nowhere to be seen,

and for the first time in her young life, Princess Snowflake knew what it was to feel fear. For the first time, she began to wish that she had listened to the witches. How long had Gooseberry been gone? Ten minutes? An hour? Even as Princess Snowflake rose from the bench to search for him, the day darkened and a cold, crisp flurry of snow began to fall. And as the snow fell, it sang:

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Whisper,

whisper so,

The wind

and

the snow

The

Gypsy

King

And his

golden

ring

Woe,

woe,

woe!

Whisper,

whisper

so,

The frostbite

on

your toe

The

Gypsy

King

Will

only

bring

Woe,

woe,

woe!

Whisper,

whisper

so,

The frozen

ground

below

The

Gypsy

King

In the

fairy

ring

Woe,

woe,

woe!

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‘What do you mean by this sinister

and quite catchy rhyme?’ pleaded Princess Snowflake – but the snow would say no more.

For a moment the world stood still.

And then, suddenly, the Gypsy King

jumped out from behind a tree. He was strong, with rippling muscles, and he wore hundreds of gold rings on his fingers, and he had proud boots. And in his huge cruel hands he held Princess Snowflake’s darling companion, Gooseberry.