If The Shoe Fits, You’re Probably A Phony
If you really want to hear about it, this story ain’t phony, except for maybe the people in it. I’ve been known to lie and all, but this is true. I won’t bore you with the details of my crummy life, but I will say that I’m living with my lousy step-mother and step-sisters.
Anyway, my name is Cinderella. Cinderella, for Chrissake! You’ve got to be as dumb as a brick to pick a phony name like that. There’s nothing cute about it. It’s just a crummy name to match my crummy life.
So anyway, those goddam step sisters… Boy, they’re ugly as hell. You should see ‘em. They were bragging about going to some ball. That really killed me. Balls are just another place for hotshots. They’re full of perverts and phonies. Not like I would know, though. My goddam step-mother doesn’t allow me to go to them. Shocker. She drags me around like a damn puppy on a leash. I do everything for that sonnuvabitch. Nobody notices though. No one ever notices anything. She only wants the brats to go to every ball imaginable because they need a man with plenty of dough. They’re so goddam ugly and all, but with those masks on, nobody will give a damn what the hell they look like underneath.
I was scrubbing the hell outta the floor when my step sisters left. That made me feel depressed. Looking down at my dirty rags made me feel more depressed. Once you think about something depressing like that, you don’t stop. And then, you wouldn’t believe it, a fairy flew in. A fairy, for chrissake! I mean it. I know damn well it wasn’t a dream. She claimed to be my fairy godmother. That killed me. That sonnuvabitch should’ve helped me with her goddam magic a lot sooner, if she even gave a damn about me. Just the thought of that depressed me. And when I’m depressed I just go with what someone’s doing.
She gave me this lousy ball gown and glass slippers. Glass. I don’t know anyone who would wear glass shoes. Probably phonies. I looked...
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