A NEW CINDERELLA STORY

Company

  It's the morning if the party, and people are rushing around, and by people I mean servants, and by servants I mean me. Everything is either ordered, here, or cooking. At the moment I am working on decorating and the baking, and cooking.

"No, the table goes by the stairs, and the red carpet is by the door. And more food tables!" My step-mother screams at me. Her high pitched voice is, oddly, what annoys me the most. I almost ask her why she doesn't do it herself, but I manage to hold back, somehow.

"Okay, and what do you want me to do, the last time that was moved was when my dad was here," I calmly explain, "I cannot carry or drag that thing on my own, it weighs 907 pounds." I start to walk away and she screeches like a screeching owl, no, that would an insult, to the owl.

"I feed you, I house you, and this is how you repay me?" She says like she is victim, "By being lazy." The only thing between me attacking her is the law, and even that won't hold me for long.

"How am I ever going to move this piece of," I pause, looking for the right word, "Junk," I say softly to myself, then I remember my droids, the ones meant for carrying items, Dad got them for me after one of his trips to the droid capital, Washington. Together they could carry the table, so I run upstairs with my step-mom screaming after me like she just saw sasquatch. I return with the gray droids right behind me. To my pleasure, the tormentor was gone.

I quickly move the table, well, as quickly as one can move a table meant to be moved by four men that can lift a couple hundred pounds. Then I move onto the "red carpet", which is actually a deep shade of blue, it's royal blue, and faded. It was Mom's favorite rug, and her favorite color. I preserved it pretty well, before the rats came, and they move the carpet every chance they get, well, that is, they make me move it. They had me place red tissue paper over it, this time. They ruined the one thing that they had not taken away from me. After I finish with the carpet, I start to move towards the kitchen to check on the food. That is when the doorbell rings. I rush over to it, pre-cursing whoever is there, because the part doesn't start for another hour and a half. I slowly open it and to my surprise his "highness" is standing there, all fancy in his prehistoric prince costume, he looks like he just walked out of a tacky fairytale.

"Oh, boy, it's every girls dream come true," I say in my head, with my best Minnie Mouse impression. I hope it wouldn't be offensive to a tacky boy who wants to sweep a "damsel in distress" off her feet, oh, did I say wouldn't, I meant would. Yeah, I hope it would be offensive to a tacky boy who wants to sweep a "damsel in distress" off her feet, yeah that sounds right.

"Hey," John says in greeting, so he's a kind, tacky boy, "I know it's early, but I was thinking you might need help setting up." Okay, a thoughtful, kind, tacky boy, he's still tacky, and a jerk for thinking that, that I can't take care of myself. I take a good long look at him, look him up and down. "Sorry, the invitation said fairytale formal, I tried my best," John attempts a smile, I almost believe it. I laugh, and with a...

"Yipee, I'm so happy to have some help," I realize I now have some company, even if it's for a good cause, it's still company.