BroomHilda

[DudiousMax at aol.com]

Yo Dudes, 
                 When I was a young Dad and watching Rocky and Bullwinkle 
with my kids we once watched a Fractured Fairy Tale segment featuring 
BroomHIlda, the witch, that went exactly, well approximately, like this.
                 Once upon a time, in the land of Ooh Blah Dee, Ooh Blah Dah, 
BroomHilda (BH) was tippytoeing through the forest and saw a prince 
lassifying on the bank of a pond.  To satisfy the gnostic urges of the 
narrator, a rock aside the pond, she cast a spell on the Prince leaving him 
only the ability of post-modern human speech, and turned him into a frog, the 
educated Po-Mo frog.  To add insult to injury, she told him the only way he 
could return to his normal form was to to get a princess to kiss him.  The 
frog couldn't handle his new reality.  He leapfrogged around the bank of the 
pond, declaiming in a croaky voice that he was really a Prince.  He declaimed 
in the prose of McHale, and of Derrida.  No response.  He declaimed in rhymed 
couplets, in _Rubaiyat_ quatrains, in sestets, and in whole sonnets.  He even 
croaked out a sestina.  Alas and lackaday, no response (which shows what all 
that fancy tutoring will get you).  He got hungry.  As flies passed him by, 
his froggy tongue reflexively flicked out of his mouth, and he found to his 
disgust he was eating flies.  Yuk me out with a spoon.  
                After much futility, who should come mincing by but a 
visiting princess playing hide and seek with her entourage.  She noticed that 
the frog was weeping.  He'd wiped out a half-box of Kleenex with his 
crocodile tears. (I know it's an anachronism, but they were all over those 
Rocky and Bullwinkle segments.)  She picked him up.  He told her what had 
happened, in the form of a haiku that I can't remember.  You'll have to 
imagine it.  When he was finished boohooing all over about his pre-lapsarian 
state, she in fact kissed him.  He was miraculously restored to his human 
form.  But before his transformation was complete, his enormous tongue 
flicked out of his mouth and headed down her throat which gave her such a 
rush she creamed her chemise.  She was so taken with the archetypal force of 
his kiss, they plighted their troth to each other, and she ran to get her 
entourage.  
                Now the prince was alone on the bank of the pond, reading 
Heidegger and musturbating, when who should happen along but BroomHilda, and 
seeing him indulging in the pleasures of the moment, cast another spell on 
him, and transforming him into a frog once again.  Soon after, the Princess 
came back with some of her entourage and found the frog weeping and croaking, 
declaiming in iambic hexametric _alexandrins_ , on his lily pad.  Again she 
picked him up and kissed him, and again he was tranformed into his Princely 
form, and again he gave another archaic kiss.  After some double entendre 
about the Prince's fabulous ability with tongues (which the kids weren't 
supposed to get) the Princess and her entourage exeunt, to find her father, 
the visiting Monarch who is being engaged by the Prince's father by 
participating in (of all things) an arranged witch hunt.  Which may account 
for her surly mood this day.
                BroomHilda apears stage right and noticing the Prince sitting 
blissfullyon the side of the pond, leaning against a tree who has taken up 
the narration, shakes her head in wonderment, faces the camera, and, with the 
voice of the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz, ("We'll get you 
and your little dog too.') declaims: "That's funny.  When I frogs 'em they 
usually stays frogged."  And she frogs him once again.  The Prince grew up to 
be the artist formerly known as, "The Artist Formerly Known As, 'Norman 
Bates,'" and they all lived happily ever after.
                best
                      Max