Häagen-Dazs & Pretzel: A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, an extremely unattractive and petulant misanthrope grew tired of living in close proximity to a bunch of Nosy Parkers.

“Hell is other people,” Mizzie Borden muttered while stirring a cauldron of Cream of Newt Soup.  “Always butting in where they don’t belong.”

She decided to follow Thoreau’s footsteps into the woods.  She surfed MAXEDOUT.com and found a small cottage with a large oven and great curb appeal.  Real eye candy.

Mizzie purchased the cottage without requesting a home inspection.  An army of ants nibbling the gingerbread siding wasn’t the worst of it.

Walden Township raised property taxes, FEMA hiked flood insurance premiums, and subsidies under the Unaffordable Health Care Act never materialized.  

Desperate to make ends meet, Mizzie advertised on Angie’s List as an unlicensed child care provider (a/k/a “a babysitter”).  

The next day, a woodcutter left Häagen-Dazs and Pretzel in Mizzie’s care.

“I’m off to protest mountaintop removal by short-sighted privateers intent on raping the earth of its coal.  Soon, there won’t be any trees left for me to cut.  I’ll be back at 5.”

Häagen-Dazs and Pretzel proved  to be both crude and rude.

“Spoiled brats!”

Impatient for lunch, they pulled the gingerbread siding off her cottage and ate it.  Ants and all.

“Insubordinate beasts!”

When the woodcutter didn’t show on time, Mizzie shoved Häagen-Dazs and Pretzel into the oven for a “time out.”

Unbeknownst to Mizzie, the oven was blazing.

“Oh, well. I warned Häagen-Dazs not to play with matches.”

Following a half-hearted investigation plagued with bureaucratic foul ups, bribery, and corruption, the police dropped all charges.  Mizzie returned home and became a writer (the best occupation for misanthropes).  

Unable to find a publisher for her horror stories and fractured fairy tales, Mizzie self-published.  Fueled by her recent notoriety, Eat Mor’ Children  took off in a blaze of tweets.  

Paparazzi became a nuisance, sitting in trees with long lenses.

“Every blessing is cursed!”

Mizzie stormed the glade, “Get off, the lot of you!  Go shoot Cumberbatch’s bitches!”

When entreaties failed, Mizzie invited them for lunch.  As lunch.

If not for government-sanctioned invasions of privacy, Mizzie would have lived happily-ever-after.

“No one’s gonna miss a few pesky paparazzi.”

Except for other Nosy Parkers.

NSA (National Screening Agents) intercepted Mizzie’s e-mails, including her recipes for “Paparazzi Primavera” and “Children Cacciatore.”

“Hell is other people,” Mizzie muttered, when arrested.  ”Always poking about where they don’t belong.”

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Writing is a solitary occupation.  Family, friends, and society are the natural enemies of the writer.  He must be alone, uninterrupted, and slightly savage if he is to sustain and complete an undertaking. ~ Lawrence Clark Powell

Related post:  A Fairy Tale Tribunal

Illustrations:  Wikipedia ~ Hansel & Gretel (in Public Domain)