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Once upon a time,
Deep in an enchanted forest, in a far-away land, there lived a young prince. Well, technically it wasn’t an enchanted forest, it was Central Park. And he didn’t live in the park, because it was a park. He lived next to it, in the Upper East Side. Well, technically he lived next to the Upper East Side, in Midtown East. But he told people he lived “literally right next to Central Park, bro,” so when you think about it, he practically lived in an enchanted forest. Also, he wasn’t a prince. Obviously. But he was entitled and had a trust fund and called his parents “mother and father,” which is pretty close. So technically, none of that first sentence is true, but in a more real sense, it totally is.
Anyway. Deep in an enchanted forest, in a far-away land, there lived a young prince. He had spent the last 28 years of his reveling in his royal upbringing and enjoying the lavish lifestyle bestowed upon him by his father, the King Of Commercial Real Estate In The North East. The prince had attended the finest institutions in the land on his parents’ dime (and never let anyone forget that by constantly wearing a faded Yale crewneck). He had been given a brownstone palace of his very own, where he lived with his knights, Sir Brad, Sir Trevor, and Sir T-Bone, whose given name was Thomas, but demanded his nickname be used constantly.
Truly, the prince had lived a life of luxury and having his every desire granted. But on this warm spring day, that would all come to an end. The King and Queen had requested his presence in the royal palace for an early birthday lunch, and as soon as he arrived, he knew something was amiss. When he stepped out of his Uber Black carriage and on to the cobbled stone driveway, he saw the Queen waving at him to come inside. After exchanging forced pleasantries while the King “finished up some business,” they all sat down at the dining table. No sooner had the first course been served than the Queen broke the silence.
“Honey, your father and I think it’s time for you to settle down and start looking for a nice girl. I know you’ve been enjoying running around with those…friends of yours. But enough is enough. You’re too old to be chasing questionable girls in West Village bars. It’s time for you to find someone you can bring home for dinner.”
The prince looked at his mother, stunned and annoyed. He liked chasing girls in West Village bars. In his mind, he was crushing it. All he had to do was talk about his finance job and mention his past lacrosse championship and they were putty in his hands. Well some of them. It was a numbers game, you know? And more importantly, when he called them a carriage at 3 a.m., he knew he would never see them again. Sometimes they left a slipper behind, but he just tossed them in the dumpster. He was living a perfect life.
He looked at the King, who was absentmindedly checking his email, and plead his case.
“Dad, I’ll find someone when I’m ready. I-“
“You’ll do what your mother says. Clean up your act. Or would you rather find your own place to live? A studio apartment in Soho, maybe?”
The King had spoken. By royal decree, the prince had to find a suitable woman before the eve of his 29th birthday. On the carriage ride home, he hailed his knights and told them of the news. Their mission was clear. Tonight, they would find him a princess.
Miles away, a princess stirred. Her eyes fluttered open softly in the evening light and birdsong filled the air, growing and echoing off the walls of her chambers, until suddenly, her door burst open.
“Hey sleeping beauty! Turn off your fucking alarm and get up, we’re already pregaming.”
The princess picked up a clear plastic slipper and threw it at her roommate, who vanished with a grin. She floated around her room, sliding into a ball gown dress she had stolen from Forever 21 when she was in college. She was whirlwind of activity, getting dressed, getting ready, and doing her makeup. Finally, she walked out into the living room she shared with five other girls. She accepted a chalice from one of them, and smiled as the enchanting elixir filled cascaded down into her stomach. Then she spoke, her voice sounding like heaven’s chorus.
“How much fucking vodka did you put in this? Jesus, I’m going to black out tonight.”
After much more elixir and other potions, the princess stood in line to the royal ball. She could hear the sounds of the orchestra playing a beautiful melody (Zedd Remix) as she gazed at an image of herself and murmured.
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”
Her roommate turned to her and laughed.
“Are you seriously taking a Snapchat selfie right now? You cocky bitch, you better not be sending that to your ex.”
Before she could retort, the line moved forward, and the princess was swept into the grand ballroom. A sea of lights, bass, and dancers spread out in front of her, and she dove willingly into the crowd.
The ball was nearing its peak as the prince and his knights emerged from the gentlemen’s room. The door flew into the wall under the powerful grip of his highness, and his strong gaze pierced through the crowd. The pixie dust had done its trick, and he was flying high. This dude was blown the fuck out. He looked to find their table, when suddenly, something caught his eye. He saw her. His princess.
She was sleeping peacefully in a booth, her fair hair curling beneath her and her pristine skin glowing. Light twinkled around her as one of the bottle service girls dropped a sparkler. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and in a moment, he knew she was the one.
He walked up to her, slowly, and gazed down upon her immaculate features. She looked so peaceful, as if under a spell. He knew she had been poisoned, and he knew what needed to be done to break the curse. Only true loves kiss could save her. He bent down, and placed a kiss on her sleeping lips, and immediately felt it begin to work. She awoke, looked up at him with emerald green eyes, and spoke with a voice of an angel.
“What the FUCK?!”
As soon as her voice his ears, he knew it was true love. He was buoyed up, floating into the air as magic filled his soul and lifted him off his feet.
But it wasn’t magic. It was the bouncers, and they threw his ass to the ground and held him there until the cops showed up. And the prince was charged with sexual assault, and he lost his job, and his parents cut him off, and sometimes when he looked back on that day, his balls still ached with the memory of how hard the princess’s roommate kicked him while he lay there on the floor.
And the princess lived happily ever after. .
Respond
Nick Arcadia
The opposite of a life coach. Email or DM me if you want some bad advice: nickarcadiapgp@gmail.com
@noampao
noamio
Still a better love story than Twilight
This was absolutely hilarious. Thanks for a laugh this morning, Nick.
Calling yourself T-Bone unironically is one of the quickest and easiest ways to show you are a huge douchebag.
Hanging out with a guy who calls himself T-Bone unironically is the quickest way to realize how huge of a douchebag you are.
Step aside, Shakespeare
It was only a matter of time until the fantasy genre got adapted in a PGP story. Love it.
Will be referring to booze and snortables as potions and pixie dust from here on out
I definitely read this in all different voices. The narrator’s voice is definitely British.
This is awesome, I just wish Brad, Trevor, and Thomas would have gotten kicked in the nads too
Did anybody notice the Law and Order SVU theme here?
“In the Nick Arcadia justice system, disrespecting snapbacks and throwbacks is considered especially heinous..”
Well done! Needed that this morning