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The revenge of Baba Yaga (standard:humor, 1471 words)
Author: Art by Assiliym Added: Jan 13 2007Views/Reads: 3102/1939Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Its January 10, 2007 and I ran out of wrapping paper. This good website was so kind to let me print my story here. Thank you, thank you good people. Let all the spirits bless you. Content Advisory Warning: warning: warning: Warning: warning: warnin
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

rope and went straight to the Enchanted forest. I was just kicking with 
my legs and gasping for air, when suddenly someone cut the rope. “ Are 
you the Sleeping beauty?” prince Charming asked me and before I could 
stop him he kissed me. “ Forgive me my love for the waiting!” At first 
I was ready to slap him, but than I fell aroused. Last time someone 
kissed me was Ivan the Woodcutter. He had so much vodka one night and 
he come to my house by mistake. Can you believe it, after giving 
everything from myself he tried to chop off my head? No, you want! 
Anywhere the prince lost patience because I wasn't turning into the 
beautiful princess. “ You are not the Sleeping beauty. “ Prince 
Charming said and jumped. “ You are that ugly, old witch, what was her 
name?” “ Baba Yaga?” “Don't eat me please!” The prince cried and before 
I could stopped him he run into the Enchanted forest never to be seeing 
again. Poor Charming. He left the beast for the beauty but he didn't 
know how much I would loved him. O, well. The story of my lifetime. 
(Here is a time for a little melodrama pause and anyone feel like 
crying, he/she can do it now) Well, what is done – done, was time to 
move on. “Now what smart-ass?” I asked myself.  “You are coward, you 
can't even kill yourself. But you can do something else.” One 
traitorous idea come up in my brain box. I don't know why. Either 
because I was eating too many Baba Yaga Veggie-Burgers or either some 
bolt or nuts or whatever got loose in the great brain box of mine. 
Anywhere I run to this place in the neighborhood. Was a small office, 
where people print business cards, fliers and all kind of things. " Can 
you print me a wrapping paper?" I asked the old Chinese man. " Ha", he 
said." Me print everything." "How much you can print with this?" I show 
him all my chicken bonds, foreign and local currency. " Me print lot." 
He smiled and his tongue jumped out from his mouth like a wild beast. " 
Lot" " Ok, what time?" " Me busy today, you come tomorrow. Tomorrow you 
no sorry. Lot of paper!" We shook hands and I left him. I had one more 
thing to do. I jumped on my broom and stopped at all small neighborhood 
groceries, carniserrias, coffee shops, laundromats and so on. " I got a 
business preposition my friend" I told each owner. " I will give you a 
free wrapping paper." The people thought I had lost my mind and gladly 
accepted. 

Who will be laughing now, ah? If I cant publish my stories I will print
them on a wrapping paper, so people will use it to wrap up meat and 
other products. 

Now they will have my revenge. The revenge of the unpublished writer! 

Coming soon: The unpublished writer strikes back! 

And last but not least: The return of the unpublished writer 

I know today the only one reading my stories will be the hungry street
dogs, leaking the blood from the wrapping paper, but one-day. One day I 
will be something, I promise you my friends. I bet my old broom on 
that. 

The end. 

Notes from author: (change) 

I know how everyone feels after being rejected so many time. 

This is my revenge to all those critics and editors who killed my
dreams. 

The revenge of Baba Yaga. 


   


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