Вы находитесь на странице: 1из 2

Rumpelstiltskin

Once upon a time there was a miller s daughter named Gladys. Gladys had a pathetic
existence. All day long, she
would spin straw. And all night long, she d sit up and think how she would like to
be famous. Oh, to be famous, with untold riches and men falling at her feet and
her own line of action figures.
One night

POOF!--- a strange little man appeared before her.

Little lady.,, he said,

I can make you famous overnight!

Who are you?


I am what is known as a PR man, he squeaked. You know, public relations. Publicity
. Flackery.Glamorize the unglamorous. Turn the pedestrian splendorous Now let s se
e. What can you do, baby?
Oh. I spin straw.
Spin straw! I love it. Love it.
What do you mean, you love it?
Don t interrupt. I m looking for an idea. The spark! Of course ... you spin straw in
to gold!
But I can t spin straw into
Doesn t matter! Doesn t matter! I ll do the talking. I !! just contact Liz Smith.
And so it happened that overnight, Gladys did become famous. Gossip pages, talk
shows, and her own entourage of beefy security men who would beat up fans. Of co
urse, nobody had ever seen the gold.
But through the PR man s magic and since it had appeared in all the papers the people
believed it. Everyone of them. Even the king.
He called Gladys to the castle.
I understand you spin straw into gold, said the king. Well, I am going to put you i
n a room full of my very best straw and have you spin me a heap of your very bes
t gold. Twenty-four karats, please. None of that fourteen-karat garbage.
But

protested Gladys.

Of course, if you can t, you will be locked forever in my darkest dungeon. And I m to
ld the humidity down there is awful.
Oh,

said Gladys.

Not so fast, my good king, said a voice. Who should it be but the PR man, who had
magically popped into the castle. My client isn t giving gold away, y know. However,
she will spin one room of gold for you on one condition: that if she does, she b
ecomes your wife and, therefore, queen.
The king agreed, and signed on the dotted line.
So did Gladys. And then Gladys was left to her task.

Well, now what?

she whined.

Have I ever let you down, baby? the PR man asked. And, true to his word, as the gi
rl s eyes widened with amazement, the little man spun a room of pure, unadulterate
d gold. And now, my dear, business ends. You are rich and famous. So until your f
irstborn comes into the world, I bid you adieu.
Her firstborn? Gladys raised her eyebrows. But little man pointed to the fine pr
int at the bottom the contract, convenientIy providing her with a nuclear-micros
cope with which she could read it. And sure enough, there it said in black and w
hite that her firstborn child must be given to the PR man. Gladys wondered if th
e PR man had ever heard of adoption agencies, which would seem like an easier wa
y to get
but it was too late. She had already signed it
About a year later, a beautiful child was born to king and queen. And sure enoug
h, the little PR man came for the child, according to the contract. What the lit
tle man didn t know is that in reading the fine print, Gladys had found the loopho
le.
A loophole as big as a Mack Carriage, buddy! the queen told the PR man. And then sh
e read it to him: If the party of the first part (that s me) within 3 days discover
s the name of the party of the second part (that s you), the party of the first pa
rt shall keep the party of the third part (that s the little kid)!
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. (Not that it was so easy to say,
mind you.) She spat out dozens of names from Alfred to Barnaby to Clyde to Zeke
t none of them was right.

bu

On the third night, Gladys was in despair, having exhausted all the names she kn
ew. Just then there firs a knock at the palace door. And who should come in but
a man who has no importance to the plot other than to get us out of this hole th
at we re in. He spoke as if he came from a time long, long ago.
Like, hey, man, he said to the queen. You don t know me, but I ve got to hip you to som
e news! Like, the other day, I m walking through this cool forest, when, man, what
do I see but this little cat going, Ba doo oh bop. she-ram. I am the Rumpelstilt
skin man. The king s got his gold. The queen s got her fame. And their baby will hav
e my Rumpelstiltskin name:
The next day, when the little PR man appeared again, the queen was ready.
Ba doo oh bop. she-ram. You are Rumpelstiltskin man!
Ooops,

said Rumpelstiltskin.

I really goofed.

And so Gladys and the king lived happily ever aftter, and Rumpelsti!tskin was ne
ver seen in the kingdom again. There were several reports concerning a young gir
l who could make diamonds out of turnips, but of course that was in another king
dom. And you can t believe eveiything you read in the papers.