Rogplestiltskin

Once upon a time there was a poor man named Pete. He made guitars for all the local 17th century rock stars, of which, sadly, there were none. Which is why he was so poor. Still, he was dedicated to his work and wouldn’t even consider a career move (not such a f***ing genius after all, eh Pete?!). However, he did have a beautiful daughter named Heather, who had long flowing dark hair and flashing brown eyes.

“’Evvah,” he sighed one day.

“Yes, farvah?” she replied.

“We’re skint, wotevah wiw we do?” he asked.

“If I were to marry a rich man, aw our problems would shawly be ovah!” she replied.

“Dear lawd, ‘Ev, you’re raight, gel!” he exclaimed. “I’ll get onto the caise raight away!” he promised, heading for the front door.

“Maik shaw ‘e’s got a nice arse an’ crooked teef an’ levvah trahsahs an’ a sexy wink!” she yelled after him.

“Wiw do!” he replied, shutting the door behind him.

As he was walking down the road, wondering how in the world he was going to find a rich man for his daughter, along came a young man who had crooked teeth and leather trousers. ‘Perfect!’ thought Pete. He cleared his throat.

“Er, ‘scuse me sir, bat do you ‘appen to be rich?” he asked politely.

“I’m not jast rich, dear boy, I’m the bladdy king!” the young man replied.

“Your Majesty!” Pete gasped, kneeling down in front of him. The king rolled his eyes.

“Gerroff!” he ordered. “Wot jew want wiv me manny?” he asked.

“Naffink. Me daughter’s beautiful and clevah and she wants to marry. I won’t let ‘er marry a poor man ‘oo’ll neglect ‘er!” Pete explained.

“I see. Clevah, eh? Wot can she do?” the king asked.

“Wew, she can see the wind blowin’ froo the trees, she knaws wot ‘Head’ was abaht, an’ she can even turn straw intah bottles o’ brandy!” Pete told him. However, Pete lied because Heather didn’t have a clue how to turn straw into brandy. Naughty Pete!

“BRANDY!” the king exclaimed, delighted. “Bring ‘er ovah to the palace raight away!” he ordered. So Pete dashed home and told Heather the good news. She was really excited and jumped up and down, clapping her hands.

“There is a catch, though, ‘Ev,” Pete told her.

“Wot?” she asked. Pete shrugged.

“You ‘ave ter be abuw ter turn straw intah brandy,” he replied. Heather laughed.

“You ‘ave ter be kiddin’ me!” she giggled. Pete shook his head.

“Ev’ryfin’ll be okay,” he promised, as they made their way to the palace.

Well, the king took one look at Heather and fell madly in love with her. Heather fell in love with the king’s leather trousers and bottom. They married that same day and had a hot night of newly-wedded passion (sorry, that HAD to go in, this IS King Keith Moon we’re talking about!).

The next day, the king took Heather to the cellar where he kept all of his Coivassier brandy.

“’Evvah, yahw farvah tews me that you can turn straw intah brandy,” he began.

“But, Keith, I - ” she protested.

“No, ‘s okay, I andahstand if ya don’t wanna admit it. Bat next door you’ll faind a bale of straw. I’ll cam in at midnaight, and if you ain’t turned it into a large crate of brandy then I’ll get your ‘ead chopped orf,” he told her.

“Keith! No, please!” Heather begged.

“If you love me and if you value your ‘ead, you’ll do as I say,” Keith interrupted as he pushed her into the next room. Heather burst into tears.

“Wotevah is the mattah, dahlin’?” asked a voice. Heather looked up to see an odd-looking man gazing at her. He was very short, had a big bushy blond hairdo, a square jaw and glow in the dark white teeth.

“My ‘asband ‘as shoved me in ‘ere to turn straw intah brandy an’ I don’t know ‘ow ta do it!” she sobbed.

“Why doncha tew the king? ‘E’w sowt it aht fow ya!” the man suggested.

“The king is me ‘asband!” Heather explained. The man sighed. “Wot am I ter do? ‘E says ‘e’w ‘ave me ‘ead chopped orf if I don’t get it finished by midnaight!” she wept. The odd man stroked his quadrilateral-shaped jaw, deep in thought.

“Wot wiw you give me if I do it?” he asked, finally.

“Ennyfink you want!” Heather promised.

“I’ll ‘ave that necklace you’re wearin’,” the man decided.

“Deal!” Heather agreed, shaking his hand. The man set to work, and at 11:45pm he’d finished. Heather hugged him and gave him her necklace.

“Fanks evah so mach, sir!” she smiled.

“Ennytaim!” he assured her as he disappeared from view. Soon afterwards the king came in and saw the brandy. He was delighted and drank half a bottle immediately.

“’Evvah, this is amazin’!” he told her, kissing her.

“I know!” she replied.

Some weeks later, the king decided that he wanted some more brandy, and shut Heather in the room with two bales of straw. Again, he told her that if it wasn’t finished by midnight, he’d have her head chopped off. Heather sobbed in despair, she was sure that the odd-looking man wouldn’t come back again...

“Don’t tew me, more brandy?” asked a familiar voice. Heather nodded. “Leave it ter me,” he told her. “Bat, I’m afraid it’ll cost ya.”

“Wot jew want?” she asked.

“That naice big ruby ring on your fingah!” the man replied. “I can get a few bob from that!”

“Of cowse you can ‘ave it! I nevah laiked it ennywaiy!” Heather promised him. So the man set to work and had it all finished before midnight. Heather gave him the ring and off he went. The king came and was delighted with the brandy. He and Heather had another night of passion, during the course of which, Heather became pregnant. When they found out they were overjoyed and decided to throw a party to celebrate.

“’Evvah, you can maik sam more brandy!” Keith decided, sending her back into the room. “An’ remember, if you can’t do it, orf wiv yer ‘ead!” he threatened.

“Bat wot abaht our kid?” Heather asked.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I cam to it,” Keith replied as he slammed the door. Before Heather got chance to cry, the odd man came and started work on the straw.

“Fank you!” Heather squealed.

“Oh, you’re payin’ big fer this one,” the man replied. “I want your child when it’s born.”

“Bat, it’s the heir to the frone! Ennyfink ews I’ll gladly give ya, bat not my little angel!” she answered, firmly. The man stopped working and looked at her.

“Look, love, the way I see it, I’m savin’ your laif. An’ the way you an’ ‘im carry on, I’m shaw this ain’t the only kid you’ll evah ‘ave! Eivah I ‘ave it or you lose that pretty little ‘ead of yours!” the man told her fiercely. Heather sighed.

“Okay, it’s a deal,” she relented, shaking his hand. The man smiled and got back to work.

That night, the king came and saw that the brandy had been made. He was very pleased with Heather.

“My dahlin’, arsk of me ennyfink in the world, an’ I’ll give it to yer!” he told her, cuddling her tightly.

“Promise me you’ll nevah arsk me to make brandy again!” she replied quickly.

“I promise wiv aw my ‘eart an’ sow,” the king smiled. Heather was overjoyed that she’d never have to see that creepy guy again or lose any more of her jewellery to him.

About a year later, Heather had had her child, and was pregnant again, when one day she had a visit from the creepy man. Heather was sat nursing her daughter and held her more tightly as the man approached.

“Cam on, love, you promised!” he reminded her. “An’ ennywaiy, you’re expectin’ again, you an’ ‘im are like a pair o’ bleedin’ rabbits! ‘And ‘er ovah!” he demanded, holding his hands out.

“No, please, don’t taik ‘er! She’s ev’ryfink in the world ter me!” Heather pleaded. The man sighed.

“Okay. I’ll give ya free naights ta guess me naim,” the man decided. “Free guesses ternaight, free guesses termorrah an’ free guesses the naight arfta. That’s more than reasonable. If ya guess correctly, you can keep the child, if not, she’s mine,” he bargained.

“Deal,” Heather agreed. “Is your naim Henry?” she asked. The man shook his head. “Fredrick?” Again, she was wrong. “Umm, Sid?”

“Nope. I’ll return termorrah,” the man answered, running from the palace.

That night, Heather lay awake all night, trying to think of the strange man’s name. There were so many name, but she could only choose six possible ones.

“’Evvah, fer Gawd’s saik, wiw ya turn the laight orf, dahlin’?” the king asked at about three in the morning.

“I’m warried, sweetheart,” she exlained. He sat up in bed and gace her a kiss.

“Ev’ryfink’ll turn aht okay, ‘annybanch, I promise,” he assured her. “Naw, turn the laight orf an’ get sam sleep, okay, angel?” he yawned. She turned the light out and soon they were both fast asleep.

The next day, the man returned.

“’Ave ya fort of me naim yet?” he asked.

“Is it Robert?” she asked.

“No, not Robert,” he answered.

“James?” she inquired.

“Definitely not James!” he laughed.

“Wot abaht William?” she suggested.

“Nah. Okay, I’ll be back termorrah. Maik shaw you ‘ave my daughter’s staff ready fow me!” he cackled as he left.

“You’ll nevah ‘ave ‘er!” Heather called defiantly. She summoned her most trusted servant, John.

“Jun, I need you ta foller the man ‘oo jast left,” she began.

“Wot for?” he asked.

“I need you ta faind aht ‘is naim fow me, love,” she explained. “As a reward, you shall ‘ave a new bass guitar, crahfted by my farvah, an’ a new caige fer your pet spidah, Boris, a gold one wive black velvet cashions!” she promised.

“For you, my queen, ennyfink!” John declared, as he dashed outside, got on his black horse and galloped after the strange little man. At last he caught sight of a campfire and he rode over towards it. He saw the creepy man dancing around it and singing a song to himself. John couldn’t hear very well, so he went closer, but hid behind a rock so he wouldn’t be seen. Then he heard the man sing: