Irritated by her long gown snagging on low branches and tripping her as she tramped through the Dark Forest, Snow White hitched it up and tucked it into her knickers. Her hair was dishevelled, the heel on one shoe had broken and she was thoroughly pissed off. A line of bunny rabbits and fluffy squirrels trotted behind her, squeaking happily. ‘Why are they still here?’ she wondered crossly. ‘Fucking rodents.’

Eventually Snow White (and her band of creatures) stumbled across a funny looking house. By ‘funny looking’, I mean ‘pig sty’. Intrigued/disgusted Snow White moved closer to have a look. ‘Who on earth could live here?’ she wondered, ‘it’s bloody awful. Why, it looks as though one of the fluffy squirrels built it!’ She examined the weed filled garden, the tumble down stone wall, and the ramshackle roof. Not a single wall appeared to be at a right angle and it made her feel rather sick to look at. ‘Eugh. Is this how all paupers live?’ she asked herself. ‘It’s revolting.’ Being a princess and therefore used to going wherever she chose without being questioned by peasants, and being a thoroughly nosy mare, Snow White pushed the front door open. She was quite astounded to find that whoever lived there hadn’t bothered to lock the door because everybody knows that bandits roam the forests, as do bears – big grizzly ones, not just the porridge eating kind.

The inside was no better than the outside. If anything it was worse, for at least the great outdoors had wind and rain to wash away some of the muck. ‘Christ on a bike,’ muttered the princess. ‘Who the fuck lives here? It’s rancid. I can see why they didn’t lock the door. Probably hoping a burglar would have a tidy up whilst they ransacked!’ Cobwebs hung from every corner and every beam in the pokey little house. Every surface was covered in a thick layer of grime and unwashed, fungating crockery. Snow White was a little sick in her mouth for a moment. But, much like when one passes a collision at the road side, Snow White could not help but keep exploring; all the while being very careful not to touch anything. Slowly and carefully she climbed the uneven stairs. Tiny clothes were strewn across the banister, each item dirtier than the last; some greying y-fronts looking particularly suspicious. More of the same as she entered the bedroom but, how intriguing! Surrounding a quite full chamber pot were seven little beds! ‘Oh! They must be for seven little children!’ squealed Snow White. ‘Well their mother ought to be ashamed of herself, keeping them in such squalor. I’ll bet they’ve got seven different fathers, the skank.’ And on went Snow White’s judging until she was so exhausted that she needed to lie down. ‘I’m not lying in this cesspit,’ she grumbled, ‘I’ll catch Ebola or something.’ And with that she descended the rickety little stairs, left the house, and curled up on the much cleaner front path, whilst the fluffy squirrels and bunny rabbits climbed on top of her. Snow White growled in frustration at the little critters, ‘I’ve got more rat poison!’ she threatened. They all quickly scuttled off down separate holes and up separate trees and gazed upon Snow White lovingly.

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