Once there lived a Queen who had decided that being good was way too much trouble, and had decided to become Evil. In college, she earned a B.A. in Evil, graduating at the top of her class. She got the top grade by having all the other students impaled on spikes, so technically, although this did earn her the position of valedictorian, she would have been valedictorian anyway, as the only student still living.

After graduation, the queen moved into her castle and began her Evility by decreeing that all serfs in the kingdom would have to brush their teeth with lemonade or be killed. This was a real shocker to the serfs, since this was the middle ages and hardly any of them even had teeth, let alone knew how to brush them. This didn’t deter the Queen, who pronounced that not only did the serfs have to brush the teeth in their mouths with lemonade, they’d have to find all of their teeth that had fallen out and brush them too. She did allow them to choose between regular lemonade and pink lemonade, but she also declared that anyone with pink teeth was to be skinned alive, so really it wasn’t much of a choice.

The Queen may have been Evil, but she was also smokin’. In fact, she was so beautiful that the male serfs would have done anything she wanted, whether she threatened death or not. Every guy was hot for her, even though she degraded them by calling them “Smurfs.”

The kingdom’s wizard had given her a talking mirror as a gift one year, trying to get into her pants, but she’d brushed him off after flirting with him for a while, and he went home and was the first person to invent lotion (he used mashed slugs, rock slime, boiled yak fat, and aloe).

The Evil Queen kept the mirror, however, and looked all around the castle for a good place to hang it. The mirror suggested the bathroom, saying that in there, he could reflect all of her beauty. The Queen didn’t fall for that crap, though, knowing that a man may be a mirror, but he’s still a man and he just wanted to see her naked. She finally hung it in her bedroom. The mirror thought that over the bed would be a good spot, but she ignored it and hung it in the corner, where it didn’t have much of a view.

It was an honest mirror, and knew many, many things. It offered her the secrets of time and the universe, the knowledge that the best geniuses would never be able to attain, the meaning of life itself and what lay beyond, and the purpose for which humanity had arisen.

She asked it if she was the hottest woman in the world.

“Ah,” said the mirror, “so you’re interested in biology and genetics! The mystery of DNA and the power of the miniscule chromosome to pass on features from one generation to the next…”

“No,” she said. “Just tell me if I’m the hottest babe on earth.”

“Well, geez, can’t you at least make it sound a bit more lofty? I mean, I have limitless knowledge here. Can’t you jazz it up a little?”

“All right, all right,” the Queen said, “how about this: mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all?

“It’s catchy, I’ll give you that,” responded the mirror. “Now when you say ‘fairest,’ you’re talking ‘fairest’ in terms of beauty, I assume, and not ‘fairest’ as in being kind and evenhanded to others?”

“You catch on quick,” she told him. “So who’s the fairest one of all?”

“You are,” the mirror replied. “Although I could be more, ya know, more positively sure if you’d take off all your clothes...”

“Give it a rest or I’ll hang you in the men’s locker room.”

And thus each morning was the same. The Queen would ask who was fairest of them all and the mirror would tell her she was, and ask her to get naked. Several years passed in this manner, until one day, when the Queen stood before the mirror and asked her question, there was no response.

She cleared her throat. “I SAID, ‘mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all?’”

“I heard you the first time,” the mirror replied. “I’m not deaf.”

“Then why haven’t you answered? Just tell me it’s me and let’s get on with it.”

“How ‘bout from now on we pretend I said it each morning?” the mirror asked.

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you saying I’m not the fairest one of all?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re implying it.”

“Sometimes mirrors imply things,” it said. “It’s a little quirk of ours.”

“Say I’m the fairest. Now.”

“I can’t,” the mirror told her. “I’m not allowed to lie.”

The Queen gasped. “I’m not the fairest one of all? Well…how about if I let you see me naked?”

“Nah,” the mirror said. “It’d be anti-climactic at this point.”

“Well dammit, who IS the fairest one of all?”

“Aah, just some girl. Let’s just forget it. A little Oil of Olay and you’ll be back to number one, I’m sure of it.”

“Tell me who she is or I’ll be happy to take on seven years of bad luck…hint…hint.”

The mirror sighed. “Her name is Snow White, okay? She’d been gaining little by little but last night she got a new hairdo and it put her over the top.”

“Isn’t she supposed to be my step-daughter in this fairy tale?” the Queen asked.

“Yeah,” replied the mirror, “but we were getting sick of step-mother bashing in these tales, so now she’s just some chick.”

The Queen sat on her bed and thought. “How can I make myself more beautiful than this girl? How can I improve myself to make me more fair than she?” After a few minutes of thought, it dawned on her like…well, like the dawn: she’d never be more beautiful than Snow White. Perhaps it was time to let someone else take over as top beauty. She was still Queen, she was still beautiful, it wasn’t the end of the world to be second, right?

“I’ll just have her killed,” she said.

The Queen called for her Huntsman.

“Listen,” she told him, “I want you to kill this chick, her name’s Snow Cone or something; here, the mirror printed out a picture for you.” She handed him the photo.

“This is really good quality,” the Huntsman said. “Is this Fuji paper?”

“It’s Kodak, I think. Get going. Oh, don’t forget to bring me her heart.”

“Why?”

“I might want to eat it.”

“Can’t I just pick you up some White Castle on the way back or something?” the Huntsman asked.

“Oh God, don’t be disgusting.” she said.

The Queen insisted on the heart, so the Huntsman went forth to find the girl and de-heart her. But when he found her, she was so gorgeous that he got an erection which kept bumping his bow, so he couldn’t get a steady shot. Finally, he gave up and went to her, falling to his knees. “The Queen wants me to kill you,” he cried. “But I can’t do it. The boner you have provided me with will surely save my marriage. So go – flee into the woods and I’ll bring the Queen a pig’s heart instead of yours. She probably won’t notice, although I’m told that pig hearts taste like chicken while people hearts taste like pork.”
The young Snow White fled into the deep forest to escape the Queen’s wrath. Birds kept following her, singing her praises and she eventually threw some rocks at them and yelled, “Guys, I’m trying to flee here! You’re not helping!”

Eventually, she had fled so far into the woods that she didn’t know where she was anymore, and sighed with relief. Then, realizing that she had no food, no shelter, and no water, she sighed with non-relief. “Well, I guess that friggin’ Huntsman has killed me anyway, since I can’t survive in the forest all alone. Nice.”

The lovely blonde sat down and began to weep. Yes, she was blonde, despite what some major movie studios might have you believe. As she wept, all her little bird friends came and sat by her to console her about her impending death. Then chipmunks came to console her. After the chipmunks came the squirrels, who always had to have their noses in whatever the chipmunks did. Next came a family of bunnies. Then came a couple deer. Then a wildebeest wandered over to see what was going on. A couple of toads came by. Then a millipede and a few dung beetles, followed by a swarm of fire ants and a big, fat beetle. Sure, the forest is full of cute, fluffy animals, but it’s also filled with ickky, gross creatures. The creatures were there to console her, but they were still ickky and gross. The dung beetles offered her a gift, but she politely declined.

Eventually a prairie dog dropped by, and luckily, he knew of a nearby cottage. It wasn’t lucky so much that he knew of the cottage as much as it was lucky that he was even there to have seen it, since prairie dogs generally live on the American prairie and not deep in the black forests of Europe.

He tugged at Snow White’s skirt and she got up to follow him. She was a little tired of fleeing, she’d been fleeing all day after all, and her flee was only half-hearted at this point, but when she saw the little cottage she leapt up in joy, which was risky to do back then, before underwear had been invented. But she did it anyway, and the animals all learned that she was, in fact, a real blonde.

Snow White knocked on the door of the cottage, and a young girl with golden-colored locks of hair answered.

“Oh…” Snow White said. “Um, I’m sorry…I think you’re in the wrong story.”

“You know, I was wondering why there was seven of everything instead of three,” Goldilocks answered. “My bad. All these damn cottages look the same out here. Sorry ‘bout that.” And Goldilocks left to find the correct cottage.

Snow White entered the cottage and looked around.

Here were seven little beds in a row, all made up neat and tidy. Here was a long table, with seven little plates and seven little cups set out on it, ready for seven little dinners. Here was a bathroom, with seven little towels in it, but only one little toilet which, judging by the seven little plungers next to it, had seen about seven times its recommended use.

The little plates all had vegetables and meat on them, and Snow White thought, “I wonder if I should eat any of that.” This from a girl with no qualms about breaking-and-entering.

So, she nibbled some vegetables and meat off of each plate, except the potatoes, since she was watching her carbs, and then she felt very sleepy. The meat had been turkey, and the triptaphan was starting to kick in. She decided to take a nap on one of the little beds, but only one was comfortable to her, and of course it had to be the last one she tried, so she’d messed up every bed. Soon she was in a deep slumber.

About a mile away, in a diamond mine, were seven smaller-than-average-men who were mining diamonds. No surprise there, right? They had to work hard, very very hard, because they had to produce enough diamonds to keep the cost of diamonds from rising above the two months salary DeBeers advertised, since that’s pretty damn expensive already for a tiny chip of rock that looks just like glass.

Their workday was nearing an end, and so they called to each other. “Hi-HO!” one yelled. Then another yelled “Hi-HO!” and another yelled “Hi-HO!” until they’d all had a chance to yell it. The reason they yelled “Hi-Ho” and not, “Hey guys, let’s go home now!” was that they sang a little ditty on their way home, which cannot be printed here due to copyright law, but you can bet they say “Hi-Ho” in it more than once.

The smaller-than-average men were named Doc, Happy, Sleepy, Grumpy, Sneezy, Bashful, and Dopey. To get home, they walked in a single row, in order of intelligence, with Doc at the front and Dopey at the rear. Their intelligence was based on a standard Mensa test, which Dopey had scored poorly on. He didn’t even get the answer to the question: “Fairies are to Sleeping Beauty as d_ _ _ _s are to Snow White.”

As you can probably tell by Dopey alone, the smaller-than-average men were named according to their most distinguishing characteristic. Happy was happy, for instance; sleepy was sleepy, and so on. You get the picture. Besides Bashful, who was afraid of the letter “y,” Doc was the only smaller-than-average person without a “y” at the end of his name because he thought “Doctory” sounded stupid, and he wanted the extra letters’ space for “PhD, OBGYN.” The others could never remember the order of the letters, so he just shortened it to Doc.

Sleepy was on downers, and Sneezy sniffed more than flowers, if you get my drift. Bashful was a classic case of agoraphobia. Grumpy was just an asshole. There had been another smaller-than-average man named Scuzzy, but as you can imagine, the others wanted nothing to do with him, and he eventually left for Hollywood.

It was rough out there in the forest, self-sustaining as they were. Also, the Keebler Elves had been at war with them for some time, claiming that the smaller-than-aver…oh, hell with it – claiming that the dwarfs had used the wood of the magic Keebler cookie tree to build their cottage. The dwarfs did notice an abundance of Fudge Stripes cookies that mysteriously appeared each morning in the cottage, but since dwarfs are bigger than elves, many an elf had gone to his grave trying to reclaim the magic-cookie lumber. The elf graveyard was visible in the distance, along with the Tomb of the Unknown Elf. It is elfin war strategy to attack with half the number of men as the opponent has, a strategy that has put Keebler Elves on the endangered mythical-species list.

At any rate, tonight was elf-free for the dwarfs, and they got back to their cottage and banged on in with their picks and shovels, making a commotion.

Snow White heard the noise and awoke and yelled at them, “Can you hold it down a little? I need my beauty sleep! Being the fairest one of all isn’t as easy as you might think!”

The dwarfs apologized and went about their business much quieter. They had all washed up and finished dinner before Doc finally said, “Hey wait a minute…who the hell’s that girl? We haven’t had a woman in here since that interview with Oprah.”

The dwarfs crowded around the bed and stared at the snoozing beauty.

“Of course, she has to be in my bed,” said Sleepy. “Let’s wake her up already.”

But they didn’t have to, as she suddenly awoke with a start, yelled “Oh my gosh!” and made a dash for the bathroom.

“So,” said Doc. “She ate some of our food too, it looks like.” He then cut an enormous fart. And one by one, each dwarf farted their agreement.

When Snow White exited the bathroom some time later, the dwarfs gathered around her and asked the question that had gnawed at them since they’d discovered her: would she give them all blow jobs? And also, who was she and why was she in their house?

“Okay, no to questions one through seven,” she said. And she told them the story of the Evil Queen and how she wanted Snow White killed for being prettier than her.

“Sheesh, talk about self-esteem issues,” Doc said. “Well, why don’t you just get uglier than she? Then she won’t want to kill you, right? We could cut your hair, maybe break your nose and knock out a few teeth…”

“No,” Snow White replied. “I have insurance on my beauty, like Jennifer Lopez has on her butt, and if we did that they might think I’d done it purposely for the money and revoke my policy.”

“Well doesn’t that put a turd in the muffin,” said Doc. “I guess you could stay here and cook and clean for us.”

“All right,” Snow White said. “I don’t do windows.”

And so it was for a few days, Snow White cleaned and cooked and the dwarfs used their new spare time to play “Hungry, Hungry Hippos.” Everyone was happy.

Well, one person wasn’t, of course, and that was the Evil Queen. She’d been on vacation to Alaska to hunt endangered whales, so she hadn’t asked the mirror her question for a week or so. When she got back, the first thing she did was go to her mirror.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all?”

“Hey there,” the mirror answered. “So, um, how was your trip? Didja croak a lot of whales?”

“Answer the question,” she growled.

“You’re the fairest one,” the mirror replied, adding quickly, “that I can see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Is that little Snow tramp still alive?”

“Well…” the mirror said. “Yeah. The Huntsman fed you a pig’s heart and Snow White is now living with these seven dwarfs out in the forest. But look on the bright side…maybe a bear will eat her or something.”

“Really?” the Queen asked.

“Nah,” the mirror answered. “The animals all love her. I was just trying to make you feel better.”

The Queen decided it was time to take things into her own hands. “I’ll poison her. What’s her favorite fruit?” she asked the mirror.

“Figs,” the mirror told her.

“Figs?” she asked. “Whoever heard of a poison fig? Doesn’t she like apples?”

“She prefers figs.”

“Well, she’s getting an apple,” the Queen said. And she went down to the basement to poison up a shiny apple. After she had the apple ready to go, she realized that Snow White would probably recognize her, seeing as how she was the Queen and all. She decided to temporarily make herself into an ugly old hag by watching daytime television talk shows for an hour.

Now she was ready, and went into the woods in search of Snow White, who wasn’t hard to find because she was singing loudly at the dwarfs’ cottage, at first about a prince, but quickly turning to “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” since it was easier to remember the words.

The Queen headed toward the cottage. Snow White saw her coming and said, “Why look…it’s a suspicious old hag who is obviously not the Queen. Maybe she has some fruit for me.”

The Queen approached Snow White with the apple. “Hello there,” the Queen said. “I’m the Queen—oh, crap, forget I said that. Let me start over.” She walked away a few feet and then returned. “Hello there,” the Queen said. “I’m a local fruit vendor. I was wondering if you’d like an apple.”

“No thanks, I’m more of a fig girl.”

“But look how big and shiny this apple is,” the Queen said. “Wouldn’t you love to taste it?”

“I prefer figs,” Snow White said.

“I won’t even charge you. You can just have it.”

“You’re not much of a fruit vendor if all you’re offering is one apple,” Snow White said.

“FINE,” the Queen said, and walked away. A few hours later, she returned with a bag of figs. “Here you go,” she said to Snow White. “Figs, just like you like.”

“Thanks but I just ate lunch,” Snow White told her.

“Hey, I came all the way back out here to give you figs, you won’t even try one?”

“All right, since you went to all that trouble, I’ll take one.”

“Take that one,” the Queen said. “It’s nice and plump and full of…flavor.”

Snow White took the fig and munched it down, saying, “Blech. I’ve tasted shit that was better than this.” Probably not the words she’d have chosen if she’d known they were to be her last, but she didn’t and they were.

The Queen poked Snow White with a stick a few times to make sure she was dead, and then left, satisfied.

Unbeknownst to her, the seven dwarfs were already on their way home and found Snow White’s body just minutes after the Queen left. They immediately knew who had committed this terrible deed: the Keebler elves. It was time to do some serious elf-whoopin’.

As they started off, they noticed the box of figs and reconsidered. The Keeblers wouldn’t have laced such a healthy food with poison; they were known to use E.L. Fudge cookies, which are irresistible. Poison fruit was the calling card of Queens, everyone knew that.

“Dopey,” Doc said, “Eat one of those figs and see if you die.”

Dopey ate a fig and flopped over, dead. Now they knew it was the Queen and gave chase through the forest, eventually catching up with her, since she’d been playing with a hackey-sack along the way.

“Hi Ho!” cried the dwarfs.

“WHAT did you just call me?” the Queen asked.

“You killed our maid!” shouted Grumpy. “And Sneezy clogged the toilet again! Now we have to clean it ourselves!”

“You vile woman,” yelled Sleepy. “You mercifully ended her life of backbreaking servitude to a group of filthy, slovenly miners!”

“Aren’t there supposed to be seven of you?” the Queen asked.

“Oh yeah, and Dopey,” Doc said. “you indirectly killed Dopey.”

The six dwarfs chased the Queen up to a high cliff, where she tried to roll a big rock on them. As the rock rolled toward them, it thumped, “thumpa-thumpa-thumpa,” and kind of made a nice beat, which the dwarfs thought sounded pretty good. They immediately decided to form a band and start playing this new music, which they named, a bit predictably, “rock and roll.” Oh, and the Queen fell off the cliff and died, etc. etc. Since it was a “Queen” who had inspired their new music, they naturally decided to call their band “The Village People,” and soon they had a number-one hit based on their early youth spent at the YMCA.

The dwarfs first returned to their cottage, however, and put Snow white in a glass casket so they could see her beauty. They just chucked Dopey’s body in the lake. One day a prince rode up on his horse and asked if a kiss would bring Snow White back to life. They said they doubted it and so he asked to join the band as “the construction worker” instead, which they agreed to.

The Moral of the Story Is: Use some common sense. An old woman is going to sell her fruit in town, where there are people to buy it. She’s not gonna tromp three miles into the deep forest hoping to stumble onto a random house to sell a single apple .