837. The royal pig
© Bruce Goodman 25 January 2016
Once there was a beautiful princess, called Gabriellina. Her hair shone golden as the sun. Her skin was white as fresh snow. Her lips were as red as a ripe near-rotting nectarine. Her breasts (As The Songs of Songs says) were like a couple of fawns, twins of a gazelle, grazing among the lilies. This overall combination strikes me as quite ugly, but she wasn’t. She was… woof, woof, woof.
Her father, the king, had promised her hand in marriage to a pig. A pig! A real oink oink oink pig. Not a human being who acted like a pig, but a hog. One that makes bacon. A real grunting boar.
“You never know,” said the king. “The pig is possibly the victim of some horrible spell caste by a gruesome witch. He is maybe a handsome prince. The spell will be broken when my beautiful princess marries him.”
The wedding was arranged. The kingdom celebrated. There were street parties and everything.
The princess appeared on the balcony with her newly married pig. They kissed. The pig turned into a frog.