The hottest lesbian that ever lived was named Cinderella. Cinderella had two foppish, but kind-hearted, stepsisters that were more than willing to let her do all the dirty work. Cinderella loved fixing broken chairs (her stepsisters, built for comfort but not for speed, supplied her with plenty) and sweeping the floor (the crumbs were perfect for feeding her pet rats). Most of all, she loved climbing up the inside of the fireplace. Her best time to the top was 56 seconds. Not a boy in town could beat her, so they called her "Cinderella" - the princess of cinders.
One day, the prince of the kingdom announced he was throwing a ball to find a queen. Cinderella didn’t want to go. She didn't care about being shoved into a stupid dress or made to dance in stupid rows. She wanted to build a fort, have an extremely long and satisfying jaunt to the bathroom, and clean the gutters on her house.
The night before the ball, unbeknownst to Cinderella, her stepmother prayed. "Anyone that is listening, PLEASE make my stepdaughter normal and happy. I promised her father I’d help her, and I just don’t know how."
A star twinkled in the sky.
The next night, at 6pm – just an hour before the ball was scheduled to start – Cinderella was deciding what the best angle would be to throw a brick through her neighbor’s window. Suddenly, right as she lifed her arm to chuck it, an attractive, scantily dressed woman materialized next to her. The woman had short black hair that bobbed and bounced almost as much as her the rest of her, which wasn’t very well covered by some straps of lace. She was like an angel. A ridiculously hot angel. Hell, she even had wings. "Hello, Cinderella," the woman called, whilst beating her wings and long legs sexily in the sky.
"Um, hey. Who, uh, are you?" Cinderella asked, failing at regaining any possible composure. It’s not her fault. The woman was incredibly attractive, and she had literally just freaking appeared out of thin air. Let’s have Jessica Alba appear next to you, or Barney if you swing that way (whatever way that would be), and see how well you do.
The woman smiled, her red lips opening tantilizingly. "I'm your fairy godmother, baby... I'm here to make your dreams come true."
"Godmother?" Cinderella asked, making sure to be extremely clear on this. "So we're definitely not related, then, right?"
"No, my dear, we aren't.... so what dreams can I make happen for you, my sweet?"
Cinderella's face lit up with joy. What could be done for her, indeed! She just needed a reason to get this sexy woman inside her house and then all her dreams definitely would come true! "Well..." she purred demurely, "There's this ball tonight, and I was thinking maybe you could help me get into a dress...."
"Oh, wonderful!" The fairy godmother cried. "I love balls!" Cinderella frowned. The fairy godmother didn't notice in her excitement, and snapped her fingers. "You can call me Belinda, deary." A coach, glass slippers, and some horsemen appeared in the pumpkin patch. It was incredible, but Cinderella didn’t let herself be shocked (she was more angry than shocked, anyway. She had been planning to enter that pumpkin in the annual competition, and now it was the size of a small cottage and had four horse drive).
“Ah, Belinda… won’t you help me change?” The fairy godmother frowned. She was quite new at this fairy godmother business, having died of a drug overdose when she was 23 and now being forced to play a sweet godmother as repentence. She snapped her fingers, and poof! Cinderella was wearing a gorgeous gown and spectacular glass slippers. She didn’t understand Cinderella’s look of disappointment. Ah well. Belinda shooed Cinderella off into the coach and twinkled with joy. If she did well on this assignment, then maybe the devil would share a blunt with her. Hey, she was already dead. Plus, he was a pretty cute fellow, though a bit singed around the edges.
As Cinderella entered the ball, the prince immediately took a liking to her. “Would you care to dance?” He asked her when the band began playing a catchy viennese waltz. He proffered his hand to her.
She scoffed. “I don’t dance,” she stated firmly. Belinda could make her come to the ball, but she did not have to enjoy it! “Plus, your fireplaces are so dirty. I bet you can’t even climb them.” The prince was taken aback. He’d never thought of climbing his fireplace. In fact, he’d never thought of climbing anything (except once when he was five. He’d climbed on top of an elephant, but after being thrown from its back his mother had banned elephants from the kingdom, as well as, just to be on the safe side, hippopotamuses, clowns, and peanuts). Therefore, he found the idea of climbing a fireplace brilliant and instantly fell in love with her, refusing to leave her side the entire evening.
After what seemed like an eternity, the clock struck midnight. "Well!" Cinderella exclaimed. "That ought to be long enough to convince Belinda that I tried my best." Cinderella snuck out, purposely leaving behind one of her shoes. She hoped it was unbearably smelly (she had a planters wart on that foot), so that the prince would think she was both clumsy and disgusting. Hopefully soon he would lose his ridiculous infatuation for her. She took the coach back home, making it just in time before it turned back into a pumpkin, and fell asleep dreaming of what she’d really like Belinda to do to her.
The next day, a courier came around. "Excuse me, does this shoe fit anyone in this household?" To Cinderella's horror, he was holding the glass slipper! "Convince him it's yours!" Cinderella hissed to her stepsisters. Since they loved her dearly, they tried their best (plus, who besides Cinderella wouldn't want to marry the prince?).
Cinderella’s first stepsister had enormous feet, a bit like a hairless well-groomed ogre. She curled in her toes and jammed her foot into the slipper. She winced in pain, but exclaimed, "Oh, it fits just right!" The courier saw through the trick and moved on.
Cinderella’s second stepsister had ridiculously tiny feet. She said with great joy, "Yes, it fits perfectly!" The courier frowned. "Take off the socks," he commanded. Sighing, Bella removed nine pairs of socks and two dead rats (for extra girth) from her foot. The glass slipper fell right off.
Lastly, Cinderella's stepmother stepped forward. She was a hardworking, caring woman. She didn’t understand her stepdaughter at all, but had promised Cinderella’s father that she’d do her best. Thinking that being a queen was the dream of every woman, she winked at Cinderella. Cinderella groaned, knowing that whatever was coming would, like most gestures that incredibly caring but incredibly out of date mothers make, probably ruin her life. Cinderella’s stepmother spoke sweetly. “Oh courier, why don’t you try Cinderella?”
The courier looked at Cinderella. “But she’s so… dirty,” he frowned. Cinderella smiled sweetly and picked her nose. Cinderella’s stepmother glared at both of them. The courier grumbled under his breath and held out the shoe to Cinderella. She scrunched her toes in tightly. The magic shoe shrank to be a perfect fit. She tried to stretch her toes out and kick the shoe off. It expanded to fit. Cinderella looked around in fury and saw Belinda in the corner. She ripped the shoe off and threw it at the the fairy godmother. It shattered on the wall behind her. Cinderella flipped off Belinda. The slipper magically reformed around her foot. Belinda smiled at her and disappeared.
"You are the one!" The courier exclaimed in shock. "Hm, well. That was unexpected. I guess you must marry the prince at once. Uhhhh… you do own… soap?"
Cinderella’s stepmother beamed with pride. “She can borrow mine!”
Cinderella sighed. No matter how nice her stepmother tried to be, she always managed to do the most evil things possible. At least she’d have a bigger chimney.