He just Appeared in the Closet, I Swear
“So what are you? Some kind of genie come to
offer me three wishes?”
“No. I'm quite offended by that, actually. Is it
because I'm black?”
“Black? No. Don't be stupid.”
“Ah! Racial stereotyping as well, now.”
“No. Stop it. I'm not doing anything like that.
Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“Why? It'd make a change from what you usually
put in your mouth.”
“Now who's stereotyping? How rude. I'm only
fifteen, you know. I could have you arrested for that.”
“For what? Suggesting you overeat? There are
three four-finger Kitkats in your coat pocket, a multipack of Cheesy
Bites in your rucksack and a cheese and sausage sandwich inside your
pencil case. Any sexual reference you inferred was entirely in your
own mind.”
“I could tell on you for verbal bullying.”
“Nothing but the truth, princess.”
“There, see? Calling me 'princess' is a form of
bullying. Clearly I'm as far removed from the social ideal of a
princess as it's possible to be and still be a human girl.”
“Quite the contrary. You're the direct
descendant of Maria Alexandrovna and technical heir to the Russian
throne. Not that I'd advise you trying to claim it, at least without
a significant political change in the nation.”
“I'm a real princess? Cool.”
“You wanted to be famous. You could be
remembered as the last princess of Russia to get her head cut off.”
“What?”
“It's a hundred years since your great-great
uncle Nicholas the Second was executed but the Bolsheviks bear a
grudge for a long time.”
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