The Evil Fat Tramp of Scowdown Valley was keen to drop the “Fat” from her title. She had engaged the services of a local dietician and put herself through a rather gruelling exercise regime. However, she had an insatiable sweet tooth, and one trip past the candy store was enough to send her back to square one (or to be more accurate, up to square let’s-not-name-the-figure).
From a very young age, she had always been in the shadow of her taller, thinner and infinitely-more-skilled-at-the-art-of-evil sister – The Old Hag from Glargistan. Their’s was a tale of sibling rivalry in its most one-sided form; there was never any real competition between the two. The Old Hag was unbeatable in all senses.
The fact that King Pompotti had summoned her and not her sister, was a source of great joy (and although she would never admit it – even greater surprise) for the Evil Fat Tramp. She had donned her foulest, evil-est looking cape (which was, unfortunately getting a bit stretched around the waist) and hurried off to the Pompotti Castle.
King Pompotti was in a terrible rage when the Evil Fat Tramp arrived. Very Influential People become Very Agitated when things they need to get done, are not getting done.
“I need you to curse that wretched girl!” He shouted, as soon as the Evil Fat Tramp entered his room.
“Of course, your majesty.” The Evil Fat Tramp gave a gracious low bow, which didn’t really manage to be very gracious at all. Furthermore, her overstretched cape chose that very moment to give up on her, and tore with a very loud, echoing rip.
King Pompotti sneered in disgust. “Please, maintain some decorum. I knew your sister would have been a better choice.”
“Your majesty, I assure you that anything my sister can do, I can do better!”
King Pompotti snorted. “How about fifty sit-ups?”
The comment, the Evil Fat Tramp felt, was rather uncalled for. She tried to brush it off as she pointed out, “Well, you must have chosen me for a reason, your majesty!”
“Yes. The reason being that your sister is foolishly infatuated with the parents of that wretched Princess Sweetheart. I trust you have no similar disease of the heart?”
The Evil Fat Tramp shook her head vigorously. “Most certainly not, your majesty! What would you like me to do?”
“I need you to teach their foul-mouthed offspring a lesson. Curse her like you’ve never cursed anyone before!”
“Of course, your majesty!” The Evil Fat Tramp chose not to disclose the fact that she had actually never cursed anyone before. Curses were a Big Deal in the world of evil, and all things that were a Big Deal got offered to her sister instead. The Evil Fat Tramp had only ever received requests for minor hexes and the like, jobs that her dearest sister deemed to be too menial.
But she could do this, she was sure of it. This was her one big chance to prove her evil-ness to the world, and she was determined not to mess it up. It was time to brush the dust off her copy of ‘An Idiot’s Guide to Curses’.
(That the book was written by her sister was a fact that the Evil Fat Tramp tried to forget. She had even tried to burn her sister’s name off the cover, numerous times. However, it would always re-appear five minutes later. Damn her sister and her superior skills.)
If the Evil Fat Tramp had her way, Princess Sweetheart’s life was about to become very difficult, indeed…
To Be Continued…