(Derailed fairytale)

Cinderella woke up in the cellar, scrubbing the same clean spot on the floor. The only thing that kept her going was the rumor she’d overheard: the palace was hosting a ball, and the buffet was unimaginable.

Out of nowhere, her Fairy Godmother appeared. “You’re going to the ball.”

Cinderella sat up. “Is the food as good as they say?”

The Fairy Godmother blinked. “Uh… sure, I guess. Anyway—” she flicked her wand, and Cinderella’s rags turned into a fancy gown, but Cinderella barely noticed. Her eyes were already glazing over, imagining the dessert table. She didn’t even notice the glass shoes.

At the palace, Cinderella skipped the ballroom and headed straight for the banquet. There they were, the meals of her dreams. She loaded her plate with everything in sight — grabbing chicken legs, pastries, even the weird fancy cheese no one could pronounce.

The prince wandered over, clearly trying to start a conversation. “Hello, I—”

“Hold on,” Cinderella mumbled, stuffing a tart into her mouth. “Do you guys have any more of these?”

The prince blinked. “Uh, I think so?”

“Cool, thanks.” She moved on, inspecting the chocolate fountain.

At that moment, the clock struck midnight. Her gown disappeared, and she was back in her rags, still holding a turkey leg. The guests stared at her.

“I would like something with pumpkin for dessert” said Cinderella.