Flash Fiction: The Strife of a Modern Prince

I’m feeling tired (again) and it’s not even late this time though the Postaday2011 requirements are quite clear. So here it is, randomly generating three more words I have to include and setting the word count to be at least 500.

The words are:

  • Bikini
  • Fairytale
  • Tent



P.S. Now I’ve finished this, I really rather like it. It needs a little bit of polishing but I do like the concept. It also ties in well with the Unicorn conversation really. Similar sort of land.


“Ah Prince Simon. Please come in.” An elderly man peered over his glasses and beckoned the young prince into his office.

“Morning Sir.”

“Morning, and call me Brian, please.” The old man rifled through a stack of papers on his untidy desk. “It says here that you’ve only rescued three maidens with virtue true this quarter?”

“Yes, well…”

“Is there a problem? Your results are significantly below others in your field. You know what a competitive market being a Fairytale Prince is. You’ve been with us for many years now and we’d hate to lose you.”

“The maidens are… well the maidens are different these days…” Simon said tucking an annoying flop of hair behind his ear. He slumped down into the frayed old armchair facing the desk.

“What do you mean different?” Said Brian leaning forward over his desk, his long beard dangling too near to an inkwell.

“Well do you remember Princess Flowerpetal-Jade-Pringles? I traveled across dangerous lands and fought great evil to get to her. Including slaying that ogre that kept her prisoner in that golden tower…”

“Ah yes I think that does ring a bell” said Brian returning to his papers.

“Well, when I got there and kissed her to wake her from her eternal slumber…”

“Ah, she wrapped her arms around you and thanked you for the rescue, did she?”

“Hardly, she slapped me and now I’m being sued for sexual harassment.”

“Ah of course, that’s where I know her name from. Well, we can discuss your court case on a different day. That’s a whole nasty bag of goblin crap, right there.”

“Maiden’s don’t need rescuing anymore.”

Brian looked up from his papers. “Well that’s not strictly true. Maidens always need rescuing.”

“Really? Then you obviously haven’t heard about Princess Vacuum-bikini-popper.”

A wry smile appeared under his long beard. “He he, oh yes I’ve heard. I assume the swelling’s gone down?”

“Yes of course, but…” Simon started.

“Look when I say maidens need rescuing, it doesn’t always have to be in a physical way. You see?”

“No, sorry.” Simon pushed his blonde hair behind his ears and leaned forward.

“Well have you considered providing financial advice, or gardening tips. Do you know how to bake a soufflé?”

The Prince stopped and thought for a moment. “Um, well I can put up a tent.”

“I see. Although that is quite a niche-market, you may need to expand your skill set. What do you feel about camping as a whole?”

“You think I should be the Prince of Camping?”

“Well I wouldn’t use that title, but yes.”

The Prince looked to the ceiling, his face scrunched up in contemplation. His eyes lowered, and met the bearded man’s.

“Look all I’m saying is think about what I said.” The old man smiled at the Prince and held out his hand. Simon and Brian shook hands. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow about Princess Flowerpetal, but in the meantime don’t speak to any serfs.”

“Sure.” The Prince turned and left the room closing the door behind him.

Brian leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. A crystal ball on the corner of the desk flashed red, “Excuse me sir. The Black Dragon of Anguish is here for his two o’clock.” announced the sphere.

“Thank you, Marjorie. Send him in.”


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