The Story

Once upon a time—

Upon? What d’you mean “upon”? I didn’t know anything could be upon or below time. How can you objectify time like that?

Wait—What? Of course not, it’s just a phrase that means “at some point in time.”

Points is it? I thought time was made up of seconds and minutes…

And hours, yes. And that is what I mean. Can I continue now?


Once upon a time there was a little girl—

You mean she’s dead now?

Huh? Yes, I would assume she would be since this is a tale about—

YOU KILLED HER!?! Why? Why did you have to do that? A little girl! Gawd, you’re cruel!

Hey, hang on. I did no such thing. I’m just saying given the natural course of things, she must be dead by now.

Look at that. The story hasn’t even started and you’ve taken one life. Spoiler alert.

Come on. The story does not end like that?

But it does end?

Of course. Every story needs an end.

I beg to differ! Ask Phantom. The ghost who walks.

<snicker> That’s a comic, you know?

Yes, but have you read the entire series? And since he’s wearing a mask, he could be the same person, for all you know.

That makes no sense. The mask is the main reason the legend can be continued by different people.

Ha! Nice try! I know the Phantom is one guy.

Anyway, can we get back?


Once upon a time there was a little girl who dreamt of becoming a sorceress—

Good for her. We need more of them.

Yeah? For what exactly?

You know, making saucer… uh—erer’s. Saucers and cups…

<buries face in hands> A sorceress is more like a witch. They don’t make crockery.

Oh! A witch. Oooohhh. I dunno if we need more of those. Wait, I’m a feminist. Of course, we need more witches.

<sighs> Fine. So the little girl dreamt of being a sorceress. Growing up, while other girls played house and tea party with their teddy bears, Lucie—

Scarlett Johansson! Mamma mia! She’s a sorceress, all right? But that voice—Someone needs to give her strepsils or something.

Lucy is a movie. The girl in this story is named Lucie. You get the difference?

Whatever. Continue.

Lucie was busy dissecting frogs and concocting potions with mandrake and human toe nails—

WHAAATTT!! Can you please be more sensitive to our vegetarian readers! You’re gonna land us in trouble if you’re not careful!

For god’s sake! It’s a story.

Doesn’t matter! Be relevant!

Fine! Dissecting… I don’t know… telephone wires and making potions with mandrake and plastic. God, the plot is really straying.

It doesn’t matter! Go on.

Soon, the people around her began to notice her strange behaviour and began treating her differently—

The nerve! I tell you, people these days need the smallest excuse to mistreat people. It’s a free country, ain’t it? Why can’t someone dissect fro—oops, telephone wires and stir magnets and paintballs.

What?! Magnets and paintballs! Are you listening to my story or not?

Of course, man. Of course. You don’t like magnets, huh?

That’s not the point—

Oh, we’re back to the points, are we? Make up your mind, please. Points or seconds!

I can’t tell you a story like this. Do you want to hear it or not?

You’re telling me a story? Man, I just want to know how to say “Astore”? A-stor-e? Or Ast-ore? You know, the valley in Pakistan.

I deserve this, I really do.


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