Uncle Rue: story guy

Once upon a time, there was a boy. His name was Jack. This might come as a surprise to you, but his name was “Jack”. He lived on the family farm with his mother. Her name was Humprilla. When you’re stuck with a name like “Humprilla” you are really motivated to give your kids names like “Jack” and “Don” and “Bill”. Humprilla liked to be called Betty, so that’s what we’ll call her for the rest of the story. That or “Jack’s mom”. Jack’s dad was dead. At least that’s the official story. Really he got fed up with Jack and Betty and the farm, and hit the bricks. He’s really a riverboat gambler now. But Betty tells everyone that he died. Plowing.

The family farm wasn’t going so well. Actually it wasn’t going at all. No crops, no tractor, no chickens, nothing. As a farm is was pretty much a wash. They had a cow though. Her name was Princess Penelope. She was Betty and Jack’s last asset. To buy food, Betty sent Jack into town to sell the cow and get supplies. What they were supposed to do next week I don’t know. They’d probably have to sell the farm and move into the city. Betty would probably have to become a prostitute and Jack might make a go at pocket picking. Jack would soon get caught and then be hanged at the city gates. Betty would contract several venereal diseases and die alone in a gutter, insane. They weren’t thinking ahead.

So, Betty sent Jack to town to sell Princess Penelope and buy some food. Jack sold Princess Penelope for food, but not as much as Betty had hoped. A handful of beans.
“Oh, and I guess these are magic beans?” asked Betty, really sarcastically.
“That’s what the man said,” said Jack. Jack was what was known in grifting circles as “an easy mark”. Which is a slightly nicer way to say “idiot”.
“And I guess if I were to throw the beans out the window… like this… they would grow into a giant bean… SON OF A BITCH! Will you look at that beanstalk! Jack, go climb it and steal whatever isn’t nailed down and bring it back to your poor Mama.”
“How do you know there’s stuff up there to steal?” asked Jack. Why climb a giant beanstalk if there ain’t loot at the top? That was Jack’s motto.
“It’s a magic beanstalk. There’s always treasure at the tops of magic beanstalks. Don’t you know anything?”
“OK, here I go.”

And Jack climbed the beanstalk. He climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed. Then he climbed some more. This was one big beanstalk. Finally, after a lot of climbing, and once when he lost his grip the threat of a lot of falling, Jack got to the top. There he saw a castle in the clouds. Not like the clouds were sorta in the shape of a castle, if you turned your head just right and squinted. It was a castle. And it was built on the clouds. At least it looked like a castle to Jack. Jack did not have too much experience with castles. This was bigger than the parish church and it was on top of a cloud. Jack just assumed it was a castle. Actually it was a hovel. A giant’s hovel, but a hovel none-the-less. There’s not alot of opportunity for great wealth in the clouds. So the giant who lived there had to settle for a hovel. Jack thought it was a castle though.

He walked up to the hovel, that he thought was a castle, and squeezed in through a crack in the door. He was sneaking around, looking for loot, when the giant’s wife rolled over in bed and saw movement. Giant’s like to sleep late. That’s why they were still in bed while Jack had time to climb the giant beanstalk.
“Eeeeek!” cried the giant’s wife. “A mouse!”

She didn’t look too closely. She just assumed it was a mouse, not some teeny tiny person who climbed up a beanstalk to break into her hovel and steal her stuff. Just goes to show you how wrong you can be. Not that it made all that much difference to the giant. He just wanted his wife to shut up so he could sleep more. So he threw his shoe at the “mouse”. He was really fast for a man his size. Even a small giant is big. That’s how you get to be a giant. You’re big. He also had a Major League arm. Jack died as a smear of goo on a giant’s wall in the clouds. I guess this is better than being hanged by the city gates as a pickpocket.

The next day, the giant saw the beanstalk. “Damned weeds…” he grumbled. Actually it was more like “…grumble, grumble, damned, grumble, weeds, grumble…”. And he pulled the beanstalk out of the ground and dropped it back down through the clouds.

So there’s poor Betty. No son, a piss poor farm, and her house completely surrounded by a giant beanstalk. She did the only thing she could do. She took the giant beans and made up huge batches of vegetarian chili. She sold these in town and got rich. So she didn’t died in a gutter insane. She died in a gutter with a dirk through her ribs when she stopped to think “Your money or your life!” over too long.
Uncle Rue, story guy.

Once upon a time there was a Princess. Her name was Evangeline. Princess Evangeline. She was not happy. She was kind of a bitch. Here she was, a Princess, and she was not happy. She had everything she’d ever wanted, and she’s a Princess, and still she’s not happy. The thing that made her most unhappy was she had to get married. Not “she had to get married” like she was fooling around with a boy and no one had the sense to use protection, and one thing led to another, and now she had to get married. Not like that at all. Her father, the King (not Elvis), promised her hand (and the rest of her) in marriage to the son of some other King (again, not Elvis) to prevent a war or something. This happened all the time to Princesses. And Princes too, but they got a Princess out of the deal and they were happy. That’s Princes for you. But the Princess, as stated before, was not happy.

“Serving Girl, I am not happy,” said Princess Evangeline.
“Why the hell, not? You’re a princess for goodness’ sake. Sheesh, you’d think that would count for something,” the serving girl thought. It came out as “Ma’am?”
“I wish I were you, Serving Girl.” Princess Evangeline thought the serving girl’s name was Serving Girl. She never really thought about it. She just said “Serving Girl…” and the serving girl would say “Ma’am?”. So it must be her name. That’s another perq of being a Princess. You don’t have to think of other people unless you really want to. The serving girl’s name was really Angelina. She was born on the same day, on the same hour as Princess Evangeline. “Creepy,” you say. Wait there’s more, as you’ll see.
“I wish we could trade places, Serving Girl. You could be a Princess and live my life of toil, and I could lead the care-free life of a servant. You would be stuck in your place in society, whereas I, as you, could work my way up to the top of my field.” Princess Evangeline did not stop to think that the top of her field was Queen, and she got there by marrying a Prince and waiting for the old King and Queen to die. If she was really lucky, the Prince who became King would die before she would and then she could rule in her own name. That would be the top of all the fields. And the hedgerows to boot.
“Yeah, that would be great,” Angelina meant to think. Instead she said it right out loud.
“I thought so too,” said Princess Evangeline. “You’re about my size. We could swap clothes, and you could be me, and I could be you, and everyone gets what they want.” What she meant was that she would get what she wanted, and that’s as far as she thought. Princess Evangeline was not big on thinking. “Here, put on my clothes…”

And the two girls got out of their clothes, and had some wine to loosen up. Then they gave each other sensual massages. Then they started kissing… NO! That’s not it at all… They just changed clothes. By themselves. One girl DID NOT help the other. There was no messing around. This is not that kind of story.

“Why! You look just like me! It’s like looking in the mirror. This goes against everything we know about genetics!” exclaimed Princess Evangeline.
“No, it doesn’t,” said Angelina. “This is the Dark Ages. We don’t know anything about genetics. We don’t even know yet what makes tall pea plants tall and short pea plants short. We think stupid things like “Everyone has a double.”, “The Divine Right of Kings”, “The Earth is flat” and “The Devil is always out to get you.” This is just a coincidence.”
“Oh. OK.”

Princess Evangeline, who is now just Evangeline, went off to enjoy the care-free life as a servant. She got thirsty, and when no one brought her wine, she got a drink of water. She contracted cholera and died.

Angelina, who was now Princess Angelina, did a little better. She got the hang of Princessing, which as far as she could tell was just being a bitch and demanding her own way. No one noticed anything amiss. She was jamming on the cushy gig of being Princess Angelina up to the wedding. Actually it was just a little bit after the wedding, if you know what I mean. Yeah, she was done in by the Wedding Feast. She ate some bad cheese. How was she supposed to know it was bad? Cheese is cheese, right? And she was eating so many new things, being Princess and all, that she lost track of what should be bad and what just was bad. This was the Dark Ages, remember. The difference between the lower class and the upper class was that the lower class ate food gone bad, while the upper class ate food gone bad with extra spices and sometimes a cream sauce. Princess Angelina ate some bad cheese, and got a tummy ache.

A regular person with a tummy ache either just lived with it or died from it. (Still the Dark Ages.) When Royalty got a tummy ache, they got a doctor to come and let all their blood out, trying to get the ill humors out. Royalty didn’t have the option of living with a tummy ache. Unless they were smart enough to keep their Royal Yap shut about having a tummy ache. Then they had a chance.

Since Princess Angelina didn’t know all the rules, she mentioned her tummy ache and a doctor was called. And things were going so well until the cheese. You thought Princess Angelina was going to become Wise Queen Angelina, and rule long and well, didn’t you? Well she would have, if the doctor didn’t get to her.

The doctor came and bled Princess Angelina until the ill humor was fully removed. Then, just to be on the safe side, he bled off another quart or two. Princess Angelina died completely cured of her bad cheese.
Uncle Rue, story guy.

That last story was for screech-owl. It’s not what she asked for, but it is what she got. Like that Christmas you really wanted that cool train that puffed real smoke. Oh, how you wanted that train. But you got a sweater instead. A sweater that itched. And was a really ugly ocher color. And your Mom made you thank Aunt Gretchen for the horrid, itchy sweater, even though what you wanted was a cool train that puffed real smoke.

This is like that. Only different.

Watch out for the cheese.
-Rue.

[sub]Al-RIGHT, Mom, sheesh, gimme a chance![/sub]

Thank you, Uncle Rue DeDay for the lovely story about the Princess and the serving girl. [sub]even though it didn’t have a talking horse in it anywhere…OW!!! Mom, that’s my ankle.[/sub]

Once upon a time there was a princess. Princess Madelyn. Everyone called her P’ Maddy, but that was later. The story starts a few days after she was born.

There was a Royal We Just Had A Baby And Now We’re Showing Her Off Feast. Everyone was invited. Landowners, Dukes, Judges, Bishops, pretty much anyone with a title that got capitalized. Not beggars or bakers. They had lower case titles. These were Not Our Kind, and didn’t get invited. The King and Queen thought this was a good rule of thumb. Capitalized: get an invite. Lower case: you’re on your own. They really didn’t stop to think “witch” was lower case. Oops.

The witch was pissed, getting snubbed like that. It was not to be stood for. Standed for? “I will not stand for that!” the witch declared. Whatever is the past tense of that. (“Pissed” by the way, in the “really, really mad” sense. not “I’ve been drinking and I’ve got a snoot-full” sense.)

She, the witch, showed up anyway. And, boy, was she mad. She dropped a curse on the head of the baby. It was really a curse that would hurt the King and Queen. The baby would be fine, no harm done to her at all. This was no wicked witch, that would harm innocent babies. She was just an angry witch that was going to show the King and Queen a thing or two.

“What was the curse?” you ask. Oh, I guess knowing the curse would help you out. When the Princess turned 16, she would prick her finger with a needle and would fall asleep for 100 years. Or until the King and Queen found a Handsome Prince to wake her up. Whatever came first.

She turned 16 and sure as shootin’, pricked her finger. She fell into a deep sleep. She didn’t age and the only upkeep she needed was to be dusted off once a week. The witch didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. She was just making a point.

The King and Queen were frantic. They called all the princes, handsome or not, they could find to the castle to waken their daughter. No one could rouse her from her slumber.

After five years they were out of Princes and they’d let the tradesmen have a crack at it. A plumber named Chuck thought he’d have a go. He couldn’t do worse than the princes, could he?

“I have an idea on how to wake your kid,” said Chuck. “But you’ll have to wait outside the bedchamber while I try.”
“Can’t we watch?” asked the King.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Just don’t do anything… unseemly.” warned the Queen.
“Trust me,” said Chuck.

So the King and Queen left the room, but they listened at the door. Who knew what a plumber would try with a sleeping princess? They heard a zipper, and then what sounded like pants rustling. Then they heard the sheets of Princess Madelyn’s bed being turned down, and some more rustling. Then they heard what they’ve been waiting for for five years, their daughter’s voice.

“Eeeeeew! What are you doing? Why are your pants down? My hand! You have my hand down your… eeeeew! Get away from me you perv!” And Princess Madelyn came busting through the door, and went to wash her hand. Chuck followed a little later, still adjusting his clothes.
“Well, she’s up,” said Chuck.
“Yes. Yes she is,” stammered the Queen.
“What did you do in there?” asked the King
“Well,” started Chuck. “She pricked her finger and fell asleep. So I figured to wake her up she’d have to…”
“Enough!” interrupted the Queen “Here’s your reward. Now go.”

The King never did figure out what went on. It was probably just as well. That way we have one story where no one dies.
Uncle Rue, story guy.

Uncle Rue, you are shameless!! Keep 'em coming!

<much chuckling and head-shaking>

hmmmm…

pricked her finger -----> fell asleep

what did she do to wake up… hmmmmmmm
pricked her finger…asleep, wake up, finger a…

MWWWWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Most excellent, Rue. Kudos

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children she didn’t know what to do.
Birth control was out of the question for Religious Reasons,
And she wasn’t going to give any of her brats up for adoption.
So, she went on welfare
And moved into Public Housing.

The Projects were tough.
She lost a couple of kids to drugs and gangs.
A few of her kids thought
“This is the life!”
And had a mess o’ kids themselves
To continue the cycle.

Most of the kids were OK, though.
They stayed in school and worked hard.
There were a few Sports Scholarships,
And one became a doctor.
When she made money, the doctor bought a big house.
Her mother could come visit,
If she called first.

Once upon a time there was a King, a Queen and a Prince. The King and Queen wanted their boy to marry the most refined princess in the land. So they proposed a test to each and every princess before they would buy them from their father… I mean make an agreement and pledge her hand in matrimony. Which is completely different.

It was a simple test. Or it should have been a simple test. It usually went “You have to feel a pea through five mattresses”. Sometimes there are 100 mattresses, but the King’s castle had low ceilings, so they went with five. Only the King and Queen were idiots. They misheard the test as “Pee through five mattresses, with feeling!”

This was so stupid, no princess would even try. A girl has her dignity after all. The Prince never did marry, which was probably just as well.
Uncle Rue, story guy.

I really think you should get these published…‘Uncle Rue’s
Bedtime Stories for when you don’t really want to go to bed, you just need a laugh’

Kind of a long title but I think its worth it.

I still would like to hear the one about the girl with the color fetish and the lupine cross dresser.

Once upon a time, far, far away, there was an enchanted land where the animals could talk. You can’t get there from here without major pharmaceuticals, so don’t even try. OK? You’re just kids after all, sheesh.

I haven’t used this opening in a while. I thought I’d revive it because there are talking animals in this story. Well, there’s one talking animal. So, there you go.

There was a little girl. Her name was Abby. She always wore a riding hood, even though she couldn’t ride a horse. It was like wearing a 'coon skin cap, even if you aren’t really Davy Crocket. It was just a goofy kid thing. Another goofy kid thing she did was always wear red. Some people thought this meant she was “easy”, but she just liked to wear red.

One day her Mom sent her out to bring a goody basket to Grandma. It was a pretty big project, but Abby was up to it.

While she was on her way she was spied by a wolf. Now, normal wolves live out beyond where people live. They are vital to the Balance of Nature. They take the sick and weak animals and turn the into Wolf Chow. This is what wolves do. Not hang out and try to eat little girls. This wolf was a deviant. His whole family was ashamed of him.

“Hey, baby, what you up to?” asked the wolf. His name was Morty.
“I’m taking a basket of goodies to Grandma,” answered Abby. Kids, what can you do with them? Abby knew better than to talk to strangers.
“That on the other side of the woods?” asked Morty.
“Yeah, but I have to go through town. It’s safer.” At least she was that smart.
“Good for you. Be safe.” The two-faced bastard.

Now, this is just stupid. The wolf could have done a few different things. He could have…
A) Grabbed the goody basket away from Abby and had it at his leisure.
2- Jumped Abby, eaten her, and then enjoyed the goody basket.
But nooooooo… Morty had to be greedy and go with…
III. Race ahead of Abby to Grandma’s house, eat her, wait for Abby, jump and eat her, and then enjoy the goody basket.

Stupid wolf.

He raced ahead to Grandma’s house. Bang, bang, bang, he knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” ask Grandma.
“I’m selling encyclopedias,” lied the wold, Morty. “Ya wanna buy some?”
“Just wait, I’m coming,” called Grandma. Grandma wasn’t born yesterday, which is a pretty dumb expression. How could she be born just yesterday and be a grandmother? It makes no sense. Like “In for a penny, in for a pound.” What does 1/100 of a dollar have to do with 16 ounces? Really. Or “safe as houses”. You get a big rock and you can steal the piano. Not very safe, really. A big rock and you’re in like Flynn. Which is also a dumb expression.

Grandma was no fool, she knew the wolf was out there with nothing good on his mind. Grandma wasn’t psychic, she peeked out the peephole. She opened the door and stuck her shotgun out. This shotgun must have had a bore the size of a fruit can. Bartlett Pears in heavy syrup. It was one big gun.

Abby shows up a little while later.
“Hi Grandma.”
“Hi Abby.”
“New rug?”
“Yeah. Real wolfskin.”
“It’s a little frayed around the edges.”
“Maybe. But it was cheap.”
Uncle Rue, story guy.

yea Uncle Rue yea!!!

'nother one please? pretty please? with sugar on top?

Georgie Porgie, puddin’ and pie,
Kissed the girls and got slapped with a restraining order.
There were further court actions taken, too.

Uncle Rue, what do you know about visually impaired rodent triplets??

Three blind mice,
See how they run!
They all ran after a farmer’s wife,
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife.
She only got their tails because she was all stove up with arthritis.
She was going for their dirty mouse heads.
They got even though.
They bit her in her ass while she was sleeping that night.
Ha ha!
Three blind mice.

We have got to keep these for Teemings Extras. Okay with you?

Uncle Rue, you’re wonderful. Now I have something to amuse myself thinking about, as I’m embarking upon the 1,000th read of Princess and the Pea, for my own little princess.

Uncle Rue, can I have 'nother one? I heard rumours about this chick who digs porridge but only if it’s just right. There are bears too.

[sub]thankyou[/sub]

Oh oh oh and Jack and Jill! That comes with pre-installed tradgedy.

Euty, if you want it, it’s yours to use. Think of this as a blanket submission for any post I… post. If you ever see somthing you like, just let me know you’re using it.

Ellen, why not read your Dopeling the new version? She if she notices the change.

Puddin’ you have but to ask. And you only have to ask once [sub](hint, hint Miss Creant. Sometimes my Muse takes a breather. Just wait her out, she’ll be dancing again soon.)[/sub]
-Rue.