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Thursday, 3 April 2014

Day 932 - Iron Henry.... and a Red Pullover

Following The Mozziah is no longer just my blog, it has become a community meeting place for members of the Blue Rose Society, and I have always been happy to publish writings from other BRS members. I have today received  a submission from a BRS member, who wishes to remain anonymous. I think it is possibly a dig at me, but as I don't understand a word of it, I couldn't really say, and if I'm honest, it leaves me, the Young Princess, more confused than ever! Enjoy:

Iron Henry – A Grimm tale

Cast:
The Young Princess - the honourable Monarch of the pen; The Rats Back
Golden Ball - MorrisseysWorld
Frog - MorrisseysMum, appearing on alternate nights; An Other, T’Other One and Tease a Mystery
The King, the Princess’s father - Skinny Uncle

One balmy afternoon in early spring a young princess went for a walk in the woods. She had a golden ball in her hand that was her favourite plaything, always throwing it into the air and catching it as it fell. The princess came to a well, chucked a penny in, and made a wish. Peering down into the well she saw a blue rose floating on top of the water. This enthralled her and she hopped excitedly from foot to foot, tossing her golden ball in the air. Now the princess did not always give her full attention to the job in hand and had a tendency to be distracted by any new, shiny thing. As her golden ball started to make its descent, she glanced down at the blue rose glistening on the water, and the golden ball bounced off her head and into the well. The golden ball and the blue rose were united at last, floating on top of the water deep in the well.

The princess began to weep and wail, tears rolling off her downturned cheeks into the water as she whimpered ‘Alas! If only I could get my golden ball back again, I would give everything that I have in the world for it’. And as she lamented, someone said ‘Princess, I want to talk to you.’ The princess looked around, baffled as to whence the voice came. She gazed down the well and was surprised to see a frog floating on its back with his arms folded behind his head. The princess sniffed and whined, ‘Never mind about you. My golden ball has fallen into the water.’ ‘Quit snivelling,’ said the frog, ‘I can help, but what will you do for me if I return your plaything to you?’ The princess thought ‘what nonsense the silly frog is croaking! He cannot get out of the well, so I shall tell him he can have whatever he asks for.’ She composed herself and said ‘Dearest frog, I would give anything you ask for to have my golden ball back. It means the world to me’. The frog said, ‘I do not want material goods, but if you will love me and let me be your companion and play-fellow; let me eat and drink with you, and sleep on your bed, we could live in harmony. Promise this and I will return your golden ball.’ The princess thought about this carefully for a second and said ‘OK, but I want the blue rose as well.’

The frog disappeared under the water and with a mighty push from his froggy legs the golden ball shot out of the water, spinning up the well shaft into the waiting arms of the princess. Next, the blue rose came flying out of the water. The princess caught the rose, tucked it jauntily behind her ear and skipped away, gently rolling the golden ball between her hands. Huffing and puffing the frog finally hauled his slimy, wet body over the rim of the well, having crawled up the well shaft brick by brick, only to find himself alone again (naturally).


That evening, just as the princess had sat down to supper with the king she heard a strange noise – splish, splash, tap, tap. She thought this noise was from her iPhone so checked her twitter timeline, chuckled to herself and tweeted ‘Kumquat may.’ She was about to dip her spoon into her leak (sic) and potato soup when she heard a loud rap at the door and a voice cried out:

‘I could have mentioned your name
I could have dragged you in
Guilt by implication
By association
I've always been true to you
In my own strange way
I've always been true to you’

Hearing these words the princess ran to the door and opened it. No one was there, but looking down at the ground she saw the frog grinning broadly. Disappointed she slammed the door in the frogs face and sat down to supper again. The king, her father, noticing that something had ruffled the princess’s normally calm demeanour, asked her if there was perchance a giant outside who wants to carry her off.

‘It is no giant, but is a disgusting frog. He rescued my golden ball for me when it fell down the well. And he gave me this beautiful blue rose’ she says preening and tilting her head to one side to show it off to full advantage. ‘What did you have to do for that? You don’t get owt for nowt’ says the king. ‘Don’t worry’, says the princess nonchalantly, ‘I just promised to love him, be his companion and play-fellow; eat and drink with him; let him sleep on my bed; and live in harmony with him. Nothing really.’

Then the king said to the young princess, ‘As you have given your word you must keep it; so go and let him in.’ The princess sighed heavily, and dragging her feet across the floor, opened the door and let the still beaming frog in. The frog leapt across the floor, jumped on to the table and settled himself in next to the princess. ‘Now put your soup bowl nearer to me that I may eat from it’ the frog said, slurp, slurp, slurping and finally belching as he has had his fill of the soup. ‘Now I am tired; carry me upstairs, tuck me into your bed’ commands the frog, ‘and if you are lucky I will whisper sweet nothings to you.’

The princess reluctantly did as she was instructed and the frog twittered in her ear all night.
‘I am three people.’
‘We are all in the same stinking, sinking ship.’
‘I love logs.’
‘I’m not playing word-games here.’
‘I have fun in my many hours alone with only an internet connection for company.’
‘I don’t know.’

By the morning the princess’s head is spinning like a 45. This same scenario carried on for the next two nights though strangely the frog seems slightly different every night, but whispered identical sweet nothings to her. By the third morning the princess had truly had enough and lifting up the frog by its hind legs she swings it around her head and out of the open bedroom window. ‘Now will you be quiet, odorous frog,’ said she. The frog flew through the air, thumping into the king’s chest as he was returning from his early morning hike. The impact knocked the king off his feet and as he got his wind back he was astonished to see, instead of the frog, a man he thought he recognised from his past. ‘You,’ said the man to the king, ‘have broken a cruel charm put on me by a spiteful fairy that changed me into a smelly frog. It just needed a crack on the head to break the spell.’ ‘I’m touched’, said the king. His nose twitched, sniffing he adds, ‘you are fragrant’.

And so our tale ends. The man looks forward to meeting the king again someday. The king does not really know what has hit him, but he can smell it a mile off. The princess clutches her golden ball tightly to her chest, her faded blue rose just a memory. The other two frogs unconsciously coupled and lived unhappily ever after.


THE END


No amphibians were harmed in the making of this tale.
Any resemblance to any dead or living real person is a coincidence.
For the true and proper version of this fairy tale read ‘The Frog-King’ by the Brothers Grimm.


If the above tale is designed to tell me that the twitter account of '@MorrisseysMum' is NOTHING to do with Morrissey, then it hasn't worked, as today, Mum has posted a couple of songs by The Monochrome Set, and it's got me thinking that Mum is cryptically telling us that The Monochrome Set are to be supporting Morrissey at Castle Fields...... but WHAT do I know, I'm just a silly air head of a Princess!

The songs Mum has posted are 'Up' and 'He's Frank'. In the song 'He's Frank', there is a lyric "he's got clothes all red." Is there a possibility that the "red pullover" from Morrissey's 'Our Frank' was borrowed from those 'clothes all red' of The Monochrome Set? A Fifi theory is needed.



STOP PRESS: I have just notched that Bid, the lead singer of The Monochrome Set, yesterday tweeted Youtube footage of a Morrissey concert!!! Something is a foot!


BID AKS @Bidspellesbid (LEFT) AND THE MONOCHROME SET - TWEETED FOOTAGE OF A MOZ CONCERT YESTERDAY.... WHY? (LESTER SQUARE'S MOWIE IS LOOKING GREAT!)


Meanwhile, Astraea popped into the Twit Arms in the early hours of this morning, to post a photo of Catherine Deneuve in Belle de Jour. Astraea added the words: "Belle de Jour. A moment in time. And how surreal life seems. And is." I forgot to mention that the other day, Astraea posted this, "Twitter thinks I should be following Cher. However what I think, is that men should give more importance to the correct length of a sleeve."



Embedded image permalink
CATHERINE

So, am I clutching the golden ball of MorrisseysWorld tightly to my chest whilst the blue rose withers and becomes a distant memory? I certainly wasn't aware of this. As far as I am concerned, the blue rose is but a mere seed, and it is yet to blossom. Can anybody help explain to this Young Princess? 

12 comments:

  1. What an entertaining and thought-provoking fairy tale. Well-written too.

    Cruella de Ville

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  2. yep. i t00 like the tale, or is it rats tail.. some work indeed has gone in to that, could be as crazEE as wussel blands' new books for kids.. hhmm.. now there is a thought

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  3. Could this possibly appear in Rustle's new fairy tales? An enjoyable read, very well done (although I can't say I understand the tale any better than Ratty).

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  4. Remember this -
    "Anonymous 2 April 2014 17:43
    My hunch is that a certain iconic pop star, bon vivant consumer of luxury chocolates and fine wines, adept raconteur, amateur online disc jokey, novelist and sage for the new millennium has infiltrated the deluded circles of the BRS using a series of cunning disguises.
    Sydney Rose-Trott Cottier Dean"

    Is Iron Henry the work of a certain luxury chocolate eater?

    Russell Square

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  5. MancLad, it definitely isn't a rat tail. Heather, I don't think it's a Rustle tale. Russell, I'm pretty sure it isn't the work of a certain luxury chocolate eater. I know which member of the BRS submitted it, although that doesn't mean much in the anonymous world of the internet, where ANYBODY can be ANYBODY!...... and I STILL don't know if it's a dig at me or not, or though I have been told NOT!

    What I DO know, is that Bid from The Monochrome Set has this afternoon tweeted another set of Morrissey songs. SOMETHING is definitely happening, and I still have a hunch that it's Morrissey and The Monochrome Set to play Castle Fields.... but then again, I though Moz was going to play Bestival!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. 'thought' not 'though'.... although I guess most people could work that out. It still feels compulsory to correct one's self if one makes a mistake. Funny old business, this internet thing. I wonder if it is a passing fad, or is the world wide web here to stay?

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  6. Ratty, this is supreme, you surclass yourself! Romina, with daughter's mobile.

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  7. Methinks it was GWO who wrote the Grimm tale.

    Last of the Dalmatians

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  8. An engaging little tale. I enjoyed reading it, thank you.

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  9. Not Grimm, but curiouser and curiouser.

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  10. yes detective GWO does fit the profile m'lud

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  11. Beautiful. Anyone got the Frogs number?

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