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You’ve got to kiss some frogs…

by on March 10, 2017



There was a princess, who lived in a large and well appointed castle with no one but her elderly father, The King, for company. (And one hundred and forty three servants and the fifteen members of The Royal Protection Squad, but they never count, do they?)

One day the Princess went walking by the stream that ran beside the Castle, handily removing the need for an expensive mains sewerage system. For this reason it was her habit to walk upstream, rather than downstream.  As she went, she skipped merrily, to avoid the pools of water left by the recent rains, and by those members of the Royal Protection Squad who had been caught short by her sudden excursion. As she passed one of these pools, a small frog espied her and did call out.

“Princess, Princess, listen to me!”

“Did you speak to me?” asked the amazed Princess.

“Oh yes, for I am no common frog but the Prince of the neighbouring Kingdom who has been set under a wicked enchantment. But kiss me, and I shall be restored to my former self and we may be married!”

The Princess regarded the frog, and did reply. “Not a chance, Sonny-Jim. If you lack the intellectual capacity to avoid such snares, we will be ill suited for marriage and I suggest you seek a bride elsewhere.”

The Princess walked on, and at the next pool she was espied by a frog sporting a small, round and somewhat exotic hat.

“Princess, Princess, listen to me!”

“Did you speak to me, oh frog?”

“Yes, for you see I am the Prince of an exotic land called Nigeria. If you but kiss me, send me £ 500 and your bank details, I can then make you the richest woman in all the lands from this unrecorded bank account, and we can be married.”

“Not a chance, sunshine. For I already get more money from the Civil List than three people could spend in a lifetime of trying, and do not need your blandishments.”

The Princess walked on, and at a third pool she was espied by a frog sitting upon a leaf.

“Princess, Princess, listen to me!”

“I suppose you are a Prince, too are you?”

This frog had a terrible attractive Italian accent. “Yes, I am a Prince and to win your hand I will perform any quest you so desire. Once you’ve snogged my face off and turned me back into a Prince, of course.”

“Any Quest I so set?”


The Princess held out her hand, the frog hopped onto it and was raised to her lips.

“Your Quest is to travel across the sea to the land where the mighty wizards make the magical white powder that my father has banned from his kingdom, and bring it back to me.”

The Princess kissed the frog, who was transformed into a handsome Italian Prince. He produced a stylish pure white helmet and leapt upon his pure white charger (actually it was a Pearl White Honda 750 with matching panniers) and he rode away.

Three days later, the Princess met her Prince at the Ferry Terminal. His exotic motorcycle had attracted the attention of Customs, who had searched his panniers and confiscated an enormous quantity of an illegal substance. The Princess watched with a smile as the Prince was dragged off by the Border Police and Drug Enforcement Agency to spend an enormous amount of time at His Majesty’s Pleasure whilst her Royal Protection Squad pulled rank, and various assorted automatic weapons, on the Customs Agency until the magical powder was released safely into the custody of the Princess.

Who lived very happily for a very long time afterwards.

The  End

I am quite enjoying creating this haphazard collection of old folk tales, updated for a modern time. There may well be more, yet.



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One Comment
  1. Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely.

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