Grumblestiltskin

by Miss Payne

Once upon a time, in a land called E-15, there lived a miller, named Steve. Steve "the miller" had a band and made people call him 'Murice' and 'the gangster of love'. He would also tell people he was a joker, a smoker, and at times, a midnight toker -even though "noon toker" was more accurate. Steve also had a 'daughter' that he liked to make up shit about. He would tell his neighbors and friends that his 'daughter', even though it was clear to everyone that she was not female as she had a bulge and a beard, could lift heavy things and eat a whole large supreme pizza all by herself. This did not impress anyone as they were all super certain this chick was a dude.

One day, Steve "the miller" was so stoned that he told everyone his 'daughter' could spin straw into gold. They all laughed at him except for this other really gullible guy who ordered the "chick" to spin him straw into gold or he'd count to 3. And you did NOT want him to ever get to 3. Unless he was counting backwards. Either way, chances are he was full of empty threats like my mom, but he'd probably bring it up again at dinner or during the best part of the movie if you didn't do it. Then you'll be pumped to go to art school in Boston just to get away from the constant nagging. I mean ya, the gullible guy will be really supportive of your art career, but at some point you just have to tell him to 'can it' and that you're a grown ass woman.

Anyway, let's see, so the "chick" is now locked up in the gullible guy's overpriced studio apartment forced to turn the room full of straw into gold. And so after hours of googleing 'straw into gold', 'alchemy', and 'free amateur home threesomes' she gave up and snapped into a slim jim. Seconds after the snap, an old man appeared, smelling like the MSPCA and a gym bag, and offering to help. The "chick" did not know it, but the old man was really interested in just complaining to someone and maybe some of that slim jim- as he liked crappy food after going to the bar. The old man then made it abundantly clear to the troubled girl- over and over again- that there wasn't enough late night food places like back in Los Angeleshire. Other people had told the old man, as this was not the first time he brought this up, "if Los Angeleshire is so great, why don't you just go back to Los Angeleshire and quite bitching about it."

The old man then took a break from bitching and started grumbling. He grumbled about the poor municipal services in the land of E-15. He grumbled about parking. He grumbled about the new star wars trilogy. He grumbled about sushi. He grumbled about Tuesday. He grumbled about gravity. He grumbled about the ICA. He grumbled about mumbling. He mumbled about grumbling. Then he grumbled about gum, Gumby, Bryant Gumble and bees that bumble, and grumble mumbled somemore!

Finally, the she-male, had had enough! "Are you going to help me, or just grumble?!" The old man then pulled out his phone and began to check his e-mail. After an awkwardly long pause he answered, "sure, but you have to first guess my name."

"Grumblestiltskin", she said.

"How did you know?", he exclaimed.

"It's embroidered on your Land's End canvas tote, duh"

The End