The Princess and the Frog

A re-telling of an old tale with a new twist.

"Everyone thinks of changing the world,
but no one thinks of changing himself."
— Leo Tolstoy


Princess Vladimira thought of herself as an ‘old school’ Princess. What she meant by this was that she was pretty obsessive about finding a Prince, and preferably a handsome Prince. It also meant that she had an unfortunate tendency to kiss unsuspecting amphibians, ‘just in case.’ Vladimira wasn’t sure why she even bothered, for a start it had never worked, and the frogs remained frogs, albeit embarrassed and or confused frogs. But she was convinced that they ought to change into a Prince, and so she carried on kissing.

She wasn’t even sure that she really liked the idea of ‘The Prince formerly known as (a frog).’ They might have strange habits, like eating flies, (though she did intuit that a long tongue could come in useful!), and ribbiting all night. Vladimira wasn’t entirely sure what ribbiting was, but speculated that it was like riveting, but with bees. Anyway, the frog snog had become a habit to such an extent that it had provoked the world’s first tadpole migration last year and the lands surrounding the palace were consequently frog free. (Her French chefs had written a strongly worded complaint but Vladimira had countered by stating that she didn’t want any potential suitor to be rendered blind drunk. Her secretary had then explained to the bemused chefs that the Princess had suffered a dictionary malfunction and had in fact meant leg-less.)

Vladimira complained bitterly to her mother about the lack of froggy suitors. The Queen, though of course distressed by the Princess’ strange fixation, consoled herself that she herself when younger, had been obsessed with peas and mattresses, and had both outgrown it and published a best selling book about the experience (The Bedwetter!)

Deciding to roll with it rather than fight it, Queen Sarah issued a declaration to the effect that any foreign Princes who, for whatever reason, no questions asked, happened to be currently cursed to be a frog, (no toads need apply – thank you!), were invited to come to court and try for the hand of Princess Vladimira, (and just to be explicit – the Queen added that any successful suitor was expected to take the whole Princess intact, not JUST her hand. She wasn’t going to have that trouble again!)

Perhaps unsurprisingly, this declaration didn’t produce a flood, nor a river, not even a trickle of transformationally challenged royalty desperate for any part of the Princess’ anatomy, hand or otherwise.

The Princess moped around, then decided this was too common, and bought herself a Combat Motors Wraith to get about on, so she could mope in style. (Look one up – I think ‘phew’ is the word.)

Then, one day, a pumpkin pulled into the castle courtyard. Onlookers noted with astonishment that the pumpkin appeared to be made of real gold, and that to some extent explained the fact that it was pulled by some rather exhausted white mice. The coach(?) man(?) was in fact a pumpkin water-vole, and he announced that the coach contained genuine frog royalty, and that his master had ridden, (and ribbited), over seven leagues to get here, including the infamous League of Gentlemen – a very dark and distressing place.

The Queen was informed, and several footmen were rather unfairly sent out to find Princess Vladimira. This decision was reviewed and the Queen then sent out several bike men, who, it was judged, would have a better chance of catching up with the moping Princess.

Soon enough Vladimira was found, and she sped back to meet the Prince at a top speed of 165 mph, she really was that enthusiastic. (I did mention ‘phew’!)

The Princess, perhaps conscious that some found her amorous intentions towards amphibian a tad (though thankfully not a tad-pole) disturbing, took the frog Prince to a private chamber and puckered up.

The actual kiss went on for some time, to allow for a variety of shimmering lights, strange stretching sounds and a few ‘pops’, all the perfectly normal witchy phenomena that one would associate with a frog to Prince transformation… except.

The young woman that Vladimira had wound up smooching post frog, (so to speak), was certainly androgynously handsome. Wore very Prince like attire and had a definite air of ‘principal boy’ about her. The would be suitor stepped back and gave Vladimira an appraising look.

“Not bad.” She opined. “I’m Princess Charley. That was a nice kiss I must say.”

Not bad? Vladimira considered taking offense, but in truth she was too curious to do so.

“How? Why? What?” She managed to say, conveying the rest with her confused visage.

“I was cursed by a rather singular witch with some curiously modern notions to remain a frog until I was kissed by my true love.” Explained Charley, kindly.

“But I can’t be your true love, I’m not a Prince, I’m a Princess.” Vladimira protested, somewhat halfheartedly it should be noted.

“And you’re not into girls?”

It was a direct challenge.

Vladimira looked around in embarrassment, because she had to admit that Charley did look rather ‘yum’.

Whilst looking around she noticed what the golden pumpkin had changed into, a golden bike helmet.

“I can change.” Said Vladimira.

Word count: 873 words.