CH2 SQWOOMPH

Delia the witch, meanwhile, unlike our Heroine formerly known as an amphibian, was having an absolutely fantastic day. After much plotting, some conspiring, and more than a bit of pondering, she had managed to gain access to the Princesses chambers. "Soon," she thought to herself, “my revenge will be complete.” It felt really challenging for her not to cackle at that time; after all, some things should be done the traditional way. But stealth is a tricky thing and guards tended to notice things like maliciously cackling witches (they were funny about stuff like that, almost like it was their job or something), and it was a difficult thing to explain away. So she bit back her natural instincts on this and settled for knowing a good old-fashioned revenging would suffice.

She readied her wand as she heard the door open and the princess storm in. By the sounds of things, her regularly scheduled 5 o clock tantrum was in full swing, so give it ten minutes or so until the king, in sheer desperation, gave in and placated her with an overpriced gift, then another ten before the princess broke said gift.

“But dear”, the king cajoled, "you already have ten Crowns, and the stone you want in this one is a national treasure and not even one of ours." (Not that that particular issue stopped most kingdoms, mind you.)

“And I’m not a treasure, is that what you’re saying, father? I suppose you want me to grub about in the fields like a filthy peasant?” Snapped his daughter, throwing everything on hand, while the poor guards dove into the path of each object to ensure the king wasn’t hit. In no time at all they were looking rather the worse for wear.

Sure enough, after ten minutes, the king sank in on himself. “I’ll get the royal jeweller on the task immediately, my treasure”. He really wished she wasn't the only heir to the throne at times like this, and understood why many royals had many potential heirs. But he wasn’t so fortunate, and he never could deny her anything, so off he went, battered guards in tow, to deal with her latest impossible demand. Which would be even more impossible given that they didn’t even possess the sacred diamond of Heylukashinee, and nobody had ever succeeded in even getting close enough to touch the damned thing, let alone retrieve it from the temple it belonged to. With a sigh, he started to plan how best to go about it; it seemed this would take a while. Maybe a well-made fake of some kind would suff...... No, that girl would put the best appraiser to shame when it came to jewels. She would find out, she always found out, then everybody would suffer a tantrum that made her usual routine seem like a picnic in comparison.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Meanwhile, in her clever hidey-hole surrounded by enough furs to make Cruella De Ville say, “Oh, I say, won’t you leave some for the rest of us?” Delia lay in wait for just a little longer until a sound that can only be described as the product of a Warthog and an asthmatic elephant who love each other very much told her the princess was asleep, before she quietly slipped out of the bungalow sized walk in closet and approached the princess to begin her spell. Looking down at the princess sleeping, it was hard to believe she was the cause of all this strife. According to the old stories, weren't princesses supposed to be unable to sleep unless it was on a stack of at least twenty mattresses? (Or more if a pea was involved, but this princess was already quite unpleasant enough without resorting to peaing the bed.) Oh well, no matter, it was time for her to learn a long overdue lesson anyway, so Delia began the spell.

“You who take what isn’t yours, yet still demand, and call for more.

Who order others “know your place” and demand they give you face.

Princess of eternal greed, who takes, and takes, but doesn’t need.

Now you’ll reap what you have sown, the ugliness inside be shown.

Soon you’ll learn, the price you'll pay,

all you have we’ll take away,

now we’ll shut your selfish gob,

lose your place, you’re now a frog.”

The spell began in a flash of light, then suddenly, out of nowhere, SQWOOMPH. Sqwoomph was never a good sound; It meant things were about to go pear-shaped in a spectacular manner. The spell backfired, and the entire palace learned in a moment what it tasted like to lick their own elbows, on a sunny 31st of September in Milton Keynes (wherever the hell that is) as reality bent for a moment, decided it didn’t like it one bit, but couldn’t really resist bending further under the influence of a gargantuan localised thaumatological anomaly, (or in layman’s terms magic not go boom.)

“Oh BOLLOCKS!” Was the last thing Delia managed to say before things got WEIRD.