Once upon a time in an enchanted kingdom, a handsome young prince lived in a beautiful castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, he was a self-centered little tyrant. But since he was nine years old nobody really cared, and his parents loved him to bits anyway.

One evening, the king and queen wanted to take a break from parenting and go some place where they could lock the door and not have their son knock to ask what they were doing in there for so long, and why the royal bed kept squeaking. So they booked a suite in a hotel in town and called the first minister.

"First minister," said the king, "the queen and I must leave on most important and urgent royal business, and in our absence, we need someone to take care of a task here that requires the utmost experience, endurance and strength of character."

The first minister's chest puffed out. "Leave it to me, Your Majesty. You can count on me."

The king beamed. "I thought you'd say that. Then we shall go, and shall leave you in charge of babysitting duty."

The first minister covered his face with his hands. "Why?" he asked God, himself, and the universe in general. "Why do I always fall for that?"

"Hahaa!" The prince stormed in, a broad grin on his face. "They got you! They got you again!"

"Good luck." The king patted his first minister on the back and handed him a ring of keys. "Here's the key to his room, and here the one to the armory, in case you need to defend yourself. And you..." He turned towards the prince. "Remember what we told you about stranger danger. Don't open the door to strangers, even if they look nice, with glittery fairy wings and sparkling wands. Under no circumstances let anyone into the castle."

Feeling that his father was being serious, the little prince nodded earnestly. "I won't, father, I promise."

"Good boy." The king squeezed his son's shoulder. "And try not to torture the first minister too much, all right?"

The little prince grinned. "That I don't promise."

A tortured groan came from the direction of the first minister. The king and prince ignored it, hugged, and then the two monarchs set off to their hotel eager to enjoy a night away from parental responsibilities and full of squeaking beds.

In the throne room, the prince turned towards the first minister.

"What shall we play? Oh, I know! We'll play Jack the Giant Killer! I'll be Jack, and you'll be the giant."

"Please! Please! Can't we play something else? Anything else?"

"How about Little Mermaid? I'd love to see if you have learned to breathe underwater since last time we tried."

With a sigh, the first minister resigned himself to his fate.

It was some time (and many bruises) later, when the little boy's innocent playing was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. This in itself was rather surprising, since the main castle was surrounded by a moat, two walls, and multitudes of guards with instructions to let nobody through. But apparently, this didn't bother the nocturnal visitor.

The prince had gotten tired of playing Jack the Giant killer. With new entertainment promising, he hurried over to the door and looked through the peephole.

"Good Evening, ugly old hag. What do you want?"

"I am a poor, hungry, harmless old woman looking of shelter from the storm," came a waverying voice from outside. "Please, young Sir, let me in."

"Storm? There isn't any storm. It's a lovely night."

"What? Drat! I forgot!" The noise of finger snapping came from outside, and a moment later, the wind howled and rain started to pelt the roof. "Now there's a storm and I'm seeking shelter. Will you let me in already?"

"I don't know..." The prince hesitated. "My parents told me not to let anyone in." He glanced back at the first minister, who was lying panting on the floor. "What do you think? Should I let her in?"

"Yes! Yes, please!"

"But she could be a child-murdering witch!"

"Do you really think so?" the first minister inquired hopefully. "Quick, open the door! The poor old woman is freezing to death."

The prince hesitated for another moment—then shook his head. "No. No, I don't think so. My father was very clear."

"Oh, come on you little brat! Let me in already! I have a beautiful magical rose for you as a gift, you know."

The prince snorted. "I've got a whole garden full of roses. You can take your magical weed and stuff it where the sun doesn't shine, you old hag! I'm not opening this door."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Well, then..."

The door exploded in a flash of bright white light, and from the light emerged not an ugly old hag, but a beautiful fairy shedding the disguise she had been wearing.

"You should never let yourself be deceived by appearances," the beautiful fairy told him. "Just because I was an ugly old stinking disgusting hag before was no reason to send me away into the storm."

"You mean the storm that you created?"

"Don't change the subject! You have done a grievous wrong, oh prince. For that wrong, you shall be punished most severely."

With those words, she raised her star-tipped wand, and once more light exploded everywhere. The prince fell to his knees, his body trembling.

"W-what is happening to me?"

"Your punishment for your wickedness!" The fairy smiled contentedly. "Thou shalt be changed into a most horrific beast for your arrogance."

"A beast? Awesome!" The boy grinned. "Will I get tusks? How big and strong will I be?"

That was not exactly the response the fairy had expected. Still, she was a traditionalist, so she persisted.

"It shall be a most terrible punishment, for in thy bestial form, all humans shall shun you and be afraid of you."

"Wow! Even my math teacher? Sweet!"

Somehow the fairy got the feeling that her just punishment of the little brat wasn't having quite the intended effect.

"And just because I feel like it," she added with gritted teeth, fixing him with a deadly stare, "I shall transform not only you, but every other living soul in this castle. The cooks shall become cook pots, the gardeners flower bushes, and as for your first minister..." She trailed off as a wicked smile spread across her face,

There was another bright burst of light, and when it was gone, the prince found himself a beast, and where the first minister had sat on the floor, there now lay a toilet brush.

"Wow!" the prince exclaimed. "I have got tusks! And horns!"

"You little fool!" Wailed the first toilet brush "Is that all you've got to say? Look at me!"

"Dear lord." The prince gazed at his transformed minister with interest. "You look...bristly."

"The curse can only be broken by the kiss of true love, bestowed on the prince by one who loves him despite his ugly appearance," the fairy proclaimed and cast the rose she had been holding at the prince's feet. "If it is not broken before all the petals of this rose have fallen, then the chance to break the curse shall be gone, and you shall all stay as you are forever."

With that cheerful last announcement, the fairy strode out and left the castle. The first toilet brush ran after her.

"Wait! Wait, your most worshipful fairyness! There has been some mistake! Please, I don't want to end up with my head in the toilet! I had enough of that at boarding school! Pleaaase!"

But the fairy was already gone. Soon after, at the next house down the road, a little old woman knocked against the door.

"Help! I am a poor, hungry, harmless old woman seeking shelter from the storm, Please, may I come in?"

"Get stuffed, you old hag!" a gruff voice called from inside.

"By the Queen of the Fae!" The fairy stomped her foot. "Is everyone in this kingdom a judgmental, arrogant lout?"

The fairy's visit to the enchanted kingdom did not go exactly as planned. She had intended to test people's kindness as hospitality, and in the usual manner of fairies, punish the bad people and reward the good ones. Unfortunately, she had failed to realize that no human being with half a brain would let a strange woman into their house in the middle of the night, especially if she was ugly and smelled bad. By the time she had worked herself from one way of the enchanted kingdom to the other, it was populated by seven-hundred fifty-two thousand five-hundred and ninety-three enchanted magical beasts, five million eight-hundred seventy-thousand five-hundred and twenty-two living articles of furniture, and one old homeless man who'd offered to share his blanket with the fairy. Highly miffed at human's inability to see the good in people, the fairy flew back to her own realm to tend her magical rose garden.

Back at the castle, the prince was discovering the joy of swinging from chandeliers.

"Yay! Yipeee! Look what I can do!"

"Your Highness! Please, come down from there! That's dangerous!"

"No it isn't. Look!"

And, letting go, the little beast made a triple salto in the air, slammed his iron-hard claws into the castle wall, pushed himself off, flew all the way to the other end of the room and landed in his fathere's throne with a resounding thud.

"Did you see that? Did you see that? I have superpowers! I'm fantabulous!"

The first toilet brush tugged at his bristles. "Yes, um, quite, Your Highness. But I fear you have not grasped the gravity of the situation yet. You may have gained extraordinary powers, but...but...you have tusks, your Highness! Tusks and fur!"

"Yes, awesome, isn't it?" The little beast beamed, displaying two deadly rows of shiny fangs. "Now I can scare all the bullies at school away, and I don't have to dress to go out in the snow to hurl snow balls at teachers!"

By now, the first toilet brush was ringing its hands, which is quite impressive considering that toilet brushes don't have hands.

"But...but...what about when you grow up and discover that you want more from life?"

"What? Like throwing bullies at teachers?"

"No! Like...like...girls."

The little beast frowned. "You want me to throw girls at teachers? That wouldn't be very nice, you know. Dad told me to be nice to girls."

"No! I mean falling in love."

The little beast pulled a face—the kind people see in their nightmares and wake up from screaming.

"Ugh! Love? I'm never going to be into that schmaltzy-walzy rubbish! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm too busy to talk nonsense. I've got some more chandeliers to climb."

No matter what the first toilet brush said, the horribly cursed prince stubbornly insisted on being happy and content. His parents, too, when they returned from their little vacation, were delighted with the change. Unlike princes, little beasts required little parenting, because they learned most necessary lessons from trips to the zoo. The king and queen retired, and left it to the first toilet brush to teach the prince how to be beastly.

Likewise, the rest of the kingdom was happy with the change. With everybody now a beast, a talking hairbrush, a vase, or candleholder, people seemed to be much more enlightened (especially the chandeliers). Everyone was equal, and the prince had many beastly friends to play with. Everyone was delighted with the changes in the kingdom.

Everyone?

Well, not quite.

"Madam, I demand that you cease this immediately! I am a high-ranking member of his Highness's government, and your behavior is entirely inappropriate!"

"Strop wiggling, will you? Or we'll never get this done."

"Madam, this is an outrage! Release me now, or I—mmmph! Grgl! Glg!—no choice but to report you to—blub! Urgh! Glk!—heavy punishment for—llmmg! Mmmmph!"

"There, you see? It's that easy if you hold still."

The maid pulled the first toilet brush out of royal lavatory and knocked him against the toilet seat, sending droplets of water flying everywhere.

"Ouch! Ow! Madam, cease this undignified treatment immediately! I'll have you know that I have the ear of the prince and—ouch!"

"There, that was it. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Madam, have you ever had your head repeatedly beaten against a toilet seat?"

"I was speaking metaphorically, you pompous ass. Well, I've got more cleaning to do. See you later."

Shuddering, the first toilet brush shook his bristles. "This is not to be born! Something has to be done."

"Err...what exactly, Sir?" inquired the lavatory, formerly the first minister's assistant. He was not quite so eager to regain his former shape. People used to dump all their problems on him while he was human, and they still did now that he was a toilet. But his schedule wasn't nearly as hectic anymore. If not for the occasional clogged pipe, his life would have been perfect. "And could you please take your brush out of my toilet bowl?"

Straightening, the first toilet brush gave his assistant a cool look.

"It's quite obvious, isn't it? Fairy's curses are quite simple to break, in principal. All you need is true love's kiss and, voila, there you have it: a whole kingdom returned back to normal, and everyone is happy and content. So all we need to do is make the prince fall in love."

"Ah," the assistant inclined his toilet seat in understanding. "Of course. There's just one little problem..."

"What problem? There is no problem!"

"The prince is nine years old."

"So what? I have a three-year-old at home who's already found the love of his life and has a large family."

"Um...you have, Sir?"

"My pet rabbit," the toilet brush grudgingly admitted. "But that's beside the point!"

However, when the first minister tried to explain his brilliant plan to the prince, it didn't go over quite as well he had imagined.

"Kiss of true love? Blurgh!" The prince pulled a face the way only an adolescent furry monster can. "Why on earth would I want to smooch some girl?"

"But...but Your Highness! Are you not tormented by your horrific transformation? Are you not agonizing over the cruel fate that has lead you to this doom and yearning for the day when the curse can be lifted?"

"Why would I? I'm not a toilet brush," the prince pointed out with the customary diplomacy of nine-year-olds, jumped up on a chandelier and started swinging.

And if the first minister hoped that the prince's attitudes might change as he grew older, he was grievously disappointed. As the prince grew, so did his powers. Soon, he was the strongest, fastest, most fearsome beast in all the lands. Not even dragons dared to come near him. When he ventured out of his palace on nocturnal excursions across the city and into the woods, all evil things ran and hid from him, and no foreign king dared to invade his kingdom. Soon, the enchanted kingdom was the safest realm in the whole of fairyland, and the beast prince the most beloved monarch in all the lands. Now, whenever the first minister came and suggested that the curse might be lifted, the prince no longer laughed and jumped on the nearest chandelier. He simply looked at first minister and said, "I must be strong. I have to protect my people."

Then he laughed and jumped on the nearest chandelier. And the first toilet brush was left standing without knowing what to say.

Finally, the prince's twentieth birthday arrived. The whole castle was cleaned from top to bottom (including the toilets, to the displeasure of the first minister, who still hadn't learned how to breath underwater). Dripping dirty water, he stormed into the prince's throne room, where the candelabras were just rehearsing a dancing number for the approaching birthday celebration.

"Out! Out, all of you!" Waving his bristles, the first toilet brush marched towards the throne. "Your Highness, this is becoming intolerable. I had hoped you would come to your senses by yourself, but that's apparently not going to happen. I must speak up. Soon, all the petals will have fallen from the magic rose, and it will be too late! We will never be able to lift this hellish curse!"

"Minister, you forget," the prince reminded him, gently. "I don't want the curse lifted."

"But that's how fairy tales are supposed to go!" the minister howled. "Prince gets cursed by wicked witch, prince finds beautiful girl, curse is lifted by true love's kiss, and everybody learns a wonderful lesson about how appearances don't matter and love conquers all."

"But..." the Prince frowned. "If appearances don't matter, shouldn't the beautiful girl want to be with me no matter if the curse gets lifted or not?"

"Of course not! You can't expect a girl go put up with your ugly mug for the rest of your life, can you? Not to speak of literally doing the beast with two backs!"

"I can't?"

"Certainly not! After she has gone to the trouble of proving to everyone how noble she is and how little superficial looks matter to her, she deserves to get a happy-end with the most handsome prince in Fairyland. And I damn well deserve not to be a toilet brush anymore!"

The Prince, however, was not entirely convinced by this brilliant argument. He believed, for some strange reason, that the welfare and safety and his subjects was of more importance than his first minister's desire to keep his head out of the lavatory. So, when the prince's twenty-first birthday approached and the curse was about to be sealed forever, the first minister did something horrible. Something desperate. Something so dangerous, it should have been against the law. He placed a personal ad for the prince in Single Frogs & Princes®.

Charming Prince (20, enchanted) seeks fair maiden (humanoid, no fishtails, horns or hoofs) for loving relationship and lots of kissing. No applicants with fur allergy.

That night, the beast slept unsuspectingly in his extra-large four-poster bed. The next morning, when he opened his eyes, he thought at first he had been woken by the chatter of birds. But now...that shrill noise weren't birds. Frowning, he got up, moved to the window—and froze in fear.

"Dear, merciful God!"

Below him, in front of the castle, stretched a veritable sea of humans. For a moment, he thought it was an invading army—but no! This was worse! An army he could deal with. Those were teenage girls!

"I'm the one for you, Beast! Pick me!"

"Come and kiss me! Let me free your from your curse!"

God, no! He couldn't have the curse lifted! What would he do if he suddenly were puny and human again? How would he protect his kingdom? Who would hunt the dragons in the forest and wrestle down the giants?

He tore open the window.

"Go away!" he commanded, and roared so loud that the castle shook in its foundations. The girls gazed up at him wide-eyed—then blushed, and began to whisper.

"Oh, isn't he sweet?"

"That was so romantic."

"One can just see how tortured he is, and how much he wants the curse to be lifted. Poor thing."

"I'll free him from the curse."

"No, I will!"

"No, me! Out of the way!"

They started pushing forward. The guards at the gates tried to hold them back, but it was like trying to hold back an avalanche. An infatuated, adolescent avalanche with stalking tendencies. Climbing over one another, up ladders and trees, the girls swarmed over the first wall and into the courtyard.

"No! Leave! I don't want you here," The beast yelled in a panic. He had to do something! But what? Opening his maw, he gave his best beastly bellow. "Rooaaawwwr! I shall eat you all!"

That only caused a few giggles, and a number of whispered jokes about beastly virility that made the poor beast blush. Already the teenage invaders were starting to climb the second wall. He had to get out of here! If one of them got her hands—or worse, her lips!—on him, if she kissed him, and he was changed back into a measly human...

Shuddering, he slammed shut the window and sprinted to the opposite side of the room. Where was it? It had been years and years ago that his father had shown him. It had to be here! It had to be!

"Ah, there!"

Smiling with relief, he reached out and grabbed a wall candle holder beside the fireplace.

"Hey, watch it!" the candle holder chided. "Not so rough!"

"Sorry," the beast apologized. "But this is an emergency."

With a quick twist, he turned the candle holder. A grating sound came from inside the wall and, a moment later, the entire fireplace slid aside, revealing a secret staircase leading down into the dark.

Regretfully, he beast looked back at the room that had been his home his entire life.

"Goodbye," he whispered—then turned, and disappeared down into the darkness, the secret passage closing behind him with an ominous thud.

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In another kingdom, far away from the troubles of beasts and toilet brushes, there lived an impoverished merchant who had three daughters, the youngest of whom had been named Beauty because parents tend to have unrealistic expectations of their children. It was only around the age of five, when she started growing horns and tusks, that they realized that might not be quite the right name for her.

"Um, Beauty?" the father inquired one day.

"Yes, Father?" Beauty answered, gazing at her brand-new facial fur in the mirror. It had grown three inches this week alone. Another five inches, and she could compete in the beard contest in the neighboring dwarf mine.

"I'm going away on a trip. One of the ships that carries my goods, and which I had believed lost, has arrived safely in harbor after all. Maybe our fortunes are about to change. Would you like me to bring you anything from the trip?"

"We're going to be rich again?" The oldest daughter exclaimed. "Yahoo! Bring me three new dresses, and ten pair of shoes and two bottles of new perfume and some nice hats and blouses and of course jewelry and sweets and more shoes and handbags and a pretty golden coach and shoes and new cosmetics and of course shoes."

"Me too!" the second daughter exclaimed. "All that she said! And shoes! Lots of shoes."

Their father sighed. "And you, Beauty?" he asked, turning with a pleading expression to his younger daughter.

She patted his hand. "Just bring me a pretty flower from the roadside, father. That'll be more than enough."

"Thank you, Beauty." Smiling with relief, her father hugged her, taking care not to skewer himself on her tusks. Then he turned and strode outside, where his wagon was already waiting. He jumped up on the box and drove away, while the three sisters stood there and waved.

"We're going to be rich again! Rich!" The oldest sister jumped into the air as soon as he was out of sight. "Yay! Isn't it glorious?"

She joined hands with her sister and danced around the house. Beauty, however, was too worried about her father to be happy about the fact that their fortunes might be changing soon. Grabbing her favorite book from their dusty little bookshelf, she resolved to go out into the woods for a walk to clear her head.

She had hardly gone half a mile or so when she heard hurried footsteps approaching through the forest. It sounded like some large animal was hurtling through the underbrush. She put her book away and was just about to step behind a tree when something broke from the forest in front of her. Something huge. Something monstrous. Something....

Something just like me!

"Please!" The big, adorably furry beast fell to his knees in front of her and grabbed her hands. "Please, help! They're after me! They've pursued me all this way!"

He had several red stains on his torn jacket. Blood? No. That looked like...lipstick?

From the forest came the shouts of pursuers.

Beauty made a split-second decision.

"Follow me!" she ordered, grabbed the Beast by the paw and pulled him to his feet. "This way!"

They raced through the forest, the pursuers hard on their heels. But Beauty knew exactly where she was going. She knew these woods like the fur on the back of her hand. Soon, they saw light peeking through the trees, and moments later, they stumbled out onto a clearing, in the center of which rose an old, crumbling well, with a bucket hanging by a rope from a crank.

"Get in!" Beauty commanded.

"You want to dump me down a well?" the Beast jumped back. "I'm not a frog prince! I can't breathe underwater!"

"Oh, relax, you little ninny! That old thing dried out years ago."

"And people never let me forget it," the well sighed. "Just because a wishing well is dried up, that doesn't mean it does not want the occasional penny dropped in now and again. Everybody needs love and care, you know."

"Get in!" Beauty commanded again, her voice stern. The Beast hesitated for a moment longer—but then he heard the cries of his pursuers in the distance, and hurriedly jumped onto the bucket. Beauty grabbed the crank and started turning. Soon, the beast was out of sight, and Beauty settled on the edge of the well. Pulling out her book, she tried her best to calm her breathing while her furry ears flicked this way and that, listening closely to the approaching footsteps crashing through the underbrush. Who would the pursuers be? Robbers? Hunters? The king's soldiers?

A moment later her question was answered when the underbrush parted and a gang of disheveled teenage girls raced out into the clearing. The one in front instantly focused her sharp gaze on Beauty.

"Where is he?" she demanded. "Where is he hiding?"

Beauty didn't look up from her book. Leisurely, she turned the page. "Who?"

"The beast! You must have seen him! Where did he go?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The girl opened her mouth to shoot back an angry retort—but then she bit it back and struggled to calm herself down. Putting on a smile that was as fake as an evil stepmother's happy birthday wishes.

"It seems we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Gastonia. We've been hunting a horrible beast through this woods. It's violent and dangerous—"

"But soooo hot," sighed a girl not far behind her. Gastonia stepped on her foot hard.

"Like I said, the Beast is incredibly dangerous. We have to capture it and then...um, well, we just have to capture it, for everybody's sake. So, have you seen a beast anywhere around here?"

"That depends." Lifting her head, Beauty smiled, bearing her impressive tusks. "Do you have a mirror?"

Gasping with fright, the girls drew back. Gastonia narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but followed when her crew withdrew into the woods. Soon, their footsteps receded, and finally, there was no sound but birdsong in the trees.

"Are they gone?" came the Beast's voice from deep down the well.

"Yes," sighed the well. "Now would you get out of me, please? I'm ticklish!"

"You can come up," Beauty confirmed. "They're gone."

Grunting and growling, the beast climbed up the rope, and finally lifted his shaggy head out of the well. Beauty helped the poor, exhausted creature over the rim, and they collapsed on the ground together, breathing hard.

"Why were those girls chasing you?" she asked, gazing into his eyes, only a few inches away. He had the most beautiful eyes—golden brown, strong and yet sensitive, like a wounded lion. She felt a a wave of sympathy roll through her. "Were they trying to chase you out of your village?"

"My...village?"

"Yes. It's happened to me a time or two as well, until father put a stop to it."

"Oh. Yes. My village, of course." The Beast cleared his throat. "People live in villages. In tiny houses, and they work for a living. Which I do, because I'm a totally normal person."

"So they were trying to chase you away? Poor thing." Gently, she touched his cheek, and caressed the soft fur. She couldn't take her eyes from him. And he seemed to feel the same in regards to her.

"You're just like me," he whispered, his voice full of wonder. "Just like me. How..."

"My mother was a half-werewolf, half-ogre. Dad tells me I look just like her."

"You're beautiful," the Beast whispered, and Beauty was, for the first time in her life, really grateful for the thick fur on her face, for it hid her blush.

"Where will you go now?" She wanted to know. "What will you do, now that they've driven you from your home?"

The beast looked taken aback. "I don't know. I truly don't know."

"Well..." Beauty hesitated. "You could just stay with me."

"You?"

"Yes. Come!" Jumping up, she took his paw and led him into the forest. Deep among the trees, there was a little cave where she often came when she wanted to read in quiet or sharpen her claws on the rocks. It had some blankets, a comb for lice-removal and a few other essentials she couldn't live without.

"Here." Beauty gestured to the cave. "You can stay here a while, until things in your village have calmed down."

"I think that might take a while," the Beast admitted, unable to take his eyes from Beauty. Her fur looked so soft, and those little tusks were so charming... "A long while."

"Good," she whispered, and squeezed his hand.

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From that moment onward, Beauty spent even more time alone in the woods than before. Her sisters were ecstatic. Not only would they soon be rich again, but they had also, by some mysterious stroke of luck, gotten almost entirely rid of the little beast that called itself their youngest sister.

"Now all we need to do is find our Prince Charming, and life will be perfect," the oldest sister sighed. "He'll probably come along any day now. I feel my happy ending approaching."

Meanwhile, Beauty and the Beast were spending many happy hours at their cave. The more time they spent in each other's company, the more Beauty fell in love with her Beast, and she was sure he felt the same. Yet, for some reason, there seemed to be some invisible wall between them. Every time they came close to each other, every time their lips nearly touched, he jumped back and mumbled something about having to polish his horns.

"What is it? What's holding him back?" she sighed, miserably, as she sat alone on the edge of the well. "Doesn't he like me? Do I repulse him?"

"Yep," the well agreed. "Probably."

"Shut up!"

"Shut up yourself, fur face."

Beauty bit her lip, leaving two horrifying bite wounds that healed quick thanks to her ogre heritage. Wiping away the blood, she thought back to how the beast had looked at her during all those hours spent at the cave, reading books, talking, and trimming each other's fur. That hadn't been the look of someone who was disgusted. That had been caring. Adoration. Maybe even...

Raising her chin, she jumped from the well.

"I'll never know if I just sit here! Maybe he's just shy. Well...there's only one way to find out."

"Bravo!" the well exclaimed. "Take charge of your destiny! Tell him how you feel, and completely crush your hopes of future happiness in one go."

"Oh, shut it, will you?"

Striding away from the well, Beauty made her way to the cave. The Beast was already waiting for her, and welcomed her with a broad, nightmarish smile that made Beauty's heart ache with longing.

"There you are! I've been waiting for you. There's a spot on my back that itches terribly. I think my fur is knotted. Could you take the comb and—"

"Not right now." Beauty swallowed. "There's something important we have to talk about first."

"Yes?"

"I care very deeply about you, Beast."

His golden-brown eyes shone with a warm light. "And I about you, Beauty. You know that."

"Yes. Yes, I do." She took a hesitant step forward. The Beast took a nervous step backwards, and suddenly found the cave wall at his back. Damn, damn, damn! Why was it still a month to his twenty-first birthday? Why did time have to move so slowly? "That's why I think we take the next step in our relationship."

"Next step?" Desperately, the Prince looked from left to right, but there was no way to escape. "Well, I'd definitely like to take a big step right now. A big, big step, far away."

"Sssh." She was in front of him, pressing a gentle furry finger to his lips. The Beast gazed down at her and.... and... "I know you're shy. I understand. Don't worry. I'll take care of you. Nothing bad will happen."

She leaned into him, parting her lips.

"Nooooooo!"

Wrenching himself free, he jumped right up the stone cliff, over the cave, and disappeared into the woods.

Beauty was still sitting at the entrance of the cave half an hour later, crying buckets and cursing fickle, fat-headed beasts, when down the path, her father approached.

"Hello there, darling. Beautiful day, isn't it? Really beautiful day! I just came back and thought I'd stop at your usual spot to see how you're doing before going to the house. How have you been? Is everything going fabulous, as usual?"

"Nooo! I'm miserable, and going to throw myself down a wehehehehllllll. My heart is broken and my life is oooooooveeeerrr!"

"Oh. Um. That is...unfortunate."

"I'm never going to see him agaaahahahaiinn! I hate him!"

Her father started inching away, cautiously. Weeping females were high on his list of things to avoid, right above dragons and creditors.

"Errr...well, then shouldn't you be glad you'll never see him again?"

Lifting her head, Beauty threw her father a death-glare. And believe me, when a six foot tall hairy teenage monster throws you a death-glare, that's really a very deadly death-glare.

"No! I love him!"

"Oh. You do, do you?" He opened his mouth to ask who exactly they were talking about—then thought better of it. Brightening, he reached into his pocket. "Maybe this will cheer you up. You remember you asked for a flower from the roadside? Well, I didn't find any flowers by the roadside, but I came across this abandoned castle where I stayed the night, and was very hospitably welcomed by a talking chandelier and a whole musical troup of dishes. And in one of the rooms, I found this lonely rose under a dome of glass." Pulling the rose out of his pocket, he looked at it regretfully. "I'm afraid it's a bit out of shape and has lost most of its petals, but I'm sure if we plant it somewhere and take care of it, it'll bloom again and live for at least several more yea—"

"Noooo!"

The Beast suddenly rushed out of the forest, grabbed the rose from the merchant's hands, threw it on the ground and stomped on it. Repeatedly, and hard.

"Die! Die, you vicious, evil, accursed thing! Die!"

The merchant blinked.

"Errr...do you know this anti-botanic gentleman, Beauty?"

But Beauty was no longer listening to her father. She was on her feet and rushing towards her Beast, probably with the intention of slapping him so hard his fur fell off. But when he took her in his arms and kissed her, the rose crushed under his feet, she forgot all about that and melted in his embrace.

"Oh. Ehem. Well." The merchant took a few discreet steps back. "I think I just remembered another trip I need to go on. You know how it is with us merchants. Always travelling, never at home, never around to...see certain things, and, well...bye!"

He turned and fled.

Neither of the two beastly love birds paid him the slightest attention whatsoever.

"Why did you run from me?" Beauty demanded, tears in her eyes.

"Well, there was this evil fairy who wanted to sleep in my castle when I was nine, and my parents had told me not to let her in, well, not her specifically but really people like her in general, so I didn't, and she didn't like that, so she put a curse on my kingdom–"

"Kingdom? Wait just a minute...! You're a prince?"

"Oh right." The Beast scratched his horny head. "I forgot to mention that, didn't I?" He gave her an apologetic smile that could give grown men nightmares. "It's just...I left my crown at home, and I don't look very princely, you know. I wasn't sure you would believe me."

Fixing him with a stern gaze, Beauty stabbed a finger into his hairy chest.

"Explain. Now. From the beginning."

The Beat knew better than to argue. So he told her the whole story from the start. When he came to the part where he, as just a little boy, had been turned into a furry beast, tears appeared in Beauty's eyes. When he reached the part about his minister's new duties, she had to smother a laugh. She laughed and cried with him during the whole story, and when he was finally finished, she gazed up with him with so much love shining in her fury face it nearly broke the Beast's heart.

"You're the most wonderful inhuman monster I've ever met. Will you marry me?"

In answer, he leaned down and kissed her.

Thus, the hopes of thousands of teenage girls were disappointed. Beauty and the Beast returned to the Royal Castle, and the whole place, having gotten a bit dusty in the Beast's absence, was subjected to a thorough cleaning. The toilets especially were scrubbed very, very thoroughly. In fact, the Beast ordered that all the seven-hundred and thirty-nine toilets in the castle were to be cleaned daily from this day onward. Hygiene was important, after all. And so was punishing villains at the end of a fairy tale.

Soon, the castle was sparkling and decorated in white and gold. Beauty's entire family, including her gruesomely jealous sisters, were invited to the wedding. And when Beauty kissed the Beast in front of the altar and the crowd broke into cheers, he staid exactly the same, because she loved him just the way he was, and would continue to do so happily ever after.

And the moral of the story is: Bestiality is fun!

Or, another moral: it doesn't matter what you look like. Or maybe it does. I suppose it depends on what kind of person you are, and whether you've recently been magically transformed into a toilet brush.

And yet another moral: If an ugly old homeless person knocks on your front door in the middle of the night, children, let them in, give them to eat and to drink, all the money in Daddy's safe, and the shirt on your back.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

My dear Lords, Ladies, Furry Beasts and Toilet Brushes,

Well, this was it - the, for the time being, last tale in the "WARNING! Fairy Tales" series. I hope you enjoyed it. I am not sure yet whether I will continue the series. It depends on how well the Wattpad stories and the published version is received. If you'd like to see more of my fairy tales, you can express your opinion by leaving reviews for my fairy tale books on Goodreads, or purchasing the paperback or ebook version of this book. They both contain three extra tales, including my very on fairyland parody of "The Selection", based on an actual medieval fairy tale! :)

On another note, in case you'd like to know a bit about the background behind my version of "Beauty and the Beast", here are the details:

This fairy tale, as anyone who has ever watched a Disney movie will probably have noticed, is based on the fairy tale Beauty and the Beast. The original version of this famous French fairy tale was written by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve in 1740, but that was a novel-length version including such things as sexual harassment of the prince by the evil fairy and an origin story of Beauty as the secret daughter of a good fairy and a mysterious king. I chose not to use this as a basis for my story since it's a bit too detailed and long, and I didn't think it would be a good idea to have a pedophilic fairy.

Instead, my story is mostly based on the (somewhat shorter, and more well-known) version of Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, published in 1756. Most of the features fans of the Disney versions probably won't recognize (such as the facts that Beauty has two sisters, or that her father is an impoverished merchant) stem from this version.

If you were surprised that I began the story with the prince as a pre-teen—it shouldn't really come as that much of a surprise. After all, if a fairy cursed the prince to exist as a beast for years upon years until he had discovered the right girl to set him free from the spell, he would either have to be really old when the spell was finally broken, or would have to be quite young at the beginning.

One spot where this problem comes out especially is the Disney version of the tale: in Disney's Beauty and the Beast, specific time restraints are put on the story that allow us to calculate the price's age precisely. It is mentioned that he must break the spell before turning twenty-one (when the last petal of the magic rose will fall and he'll remain a beast forever) and also that he has already been under the spell for nearly ten years, which would make him around ten or eleven at the time it was cast. This is confirmed in Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas, the made-for-TV prequel of the movie, which shows the young prince as a boy being enchanted by the fairy. I considered this very unfair to the poor little prince, and thought he deserved better treatment, which I've tried to provide in my version of this fairy tale.

Yours Truly

Sir Rob, the writing toilet brush