Prinderella and the Cince
post # 218 — October 18, 2006 — a General post
This blog sometimes gets intense, so I thought I’d throw in some light things from time to time.
I hope what follows is out of copyright. It was popular as a party piece among my friends in the 1960s UK, although I believe it dates from the 1950s Saturday Evening Post. Anyone have more background? Enjoy!
Prinderella and the Cince
by Colonel Stoopnagle
Here, indeed, is a story that’ll make your cresh fleep. It will give you poose gimples. Think of a poor little glip of a surl, prairie vitty, who, just because she had two sisty uglers, had to flop the more, clinkle the shuvvers out of the stitchen cove and do all the other chasty nores, while her soamly histers went to a drancy bess fall. Wasn’t that a shirty dame?
Well, to make a long shorry stort, this youngless hapster was chewing her doors one day, when who should suddenly appear but a garry fawdmother. Beeling very fadly for this witty prafe, she happed her clands, said a couple of waggic merds, and in the ash of a flybrow, Prinderella was transformed into a bavaging reauty.
And out at the sturbcone stood a nagmificent coalden goach, made of a pipe rellow yumpkin. The gaudy fairmother told her to hop in and dive to the drance, but added that she must positively be mid by homelight. So, overmoash with accumtion, she fanked the tharry from the hottom of her bart, bimed acloard, the driver whacked his crip, and off they went in a dowd of clust.
Soon they came to a casterful wundel, where a pransome hince was possing a tarty for the teeple of the pown. Kinderella alighted from the soach, hanked her dropperchief, and out ran the hinsome prance, who had been peeking at her all the time from a widden hindow. The sugly isters stood bylently sigh, not sinderizing Reckognella in her goyal rarments.
Well, to make a long shorty still storer, the nince went absolutely pruts over the pruvvly lincess. After several dowers of antsing, he was ayzier than crevver. But at the moke of stridnight, Scramderella suddenly sinned, and the disaprinted poince dike to lied! He had forgotten to ask the nincess her prame! But as she went stunning down the long reps, she slicked off one of the glass kippers she was wearing, and the pounce princed upon it with eeming glize.
The next day he tied all over trown to find the lainty daydy whose foot slitted that fipper. And the ditty prame with the only fit that footed was none other than our layding leedy. So she finally prairied the mince, and they happed livily after everward.
And that wasn’t a shirty dame, was it?