A PRINTERS EXPERIENCE IN WONDERLAND
WHAT is this place? This is where Mr. Jinx told me to meet him when he gave me this key. He promised the Queen would finally pay. “You’ll see, with me as your friend not only will you have no further problems with payment, but I will make sure the Queen appoints you as her Royal printer. YOU will be rich,” he said. And so here I came as he directed, and what do I see but a hay field – and I have hay allergies!
The Printer fumbled in his pocket looking for the key once more and pricked his finger along its sharp edge causing it to bleed. He cried ‘ouch’ from both humiliation and pain as he wondered; ‘How does one open a haystack with a key? Jinx, where do you propose I stick it?’
Sneezing, he rubbed his nub trying to ease the pain when he saw that his blood was spelling something on the ground. ‘What’s this, could this be Jinx’ message?’
Woozy from sneezing, wheezing, and bleeding, the Printer crouched down to read the message and noticed that, as he knelt, the words shrank, and the lower he bent the smaller they became. Exasperated at the unfair games played at his expense, he leaned even closer, swearing between sneezes ’no damn worm could get any lower than this’ but sadly the words just shrank more.
Remembering he always carried a magnifying glass for work, the Printer was sure this would help. Pointing it towards the words he sneezed again, but this time it was so loud it scared the words right up off the ground making them scramble into a growing hole that was swallowing everything in its’ path, eventually even the sneezy printer with his pricked finger.
Falling, Falling, the Printer landed with a loud thunk awakening in a strange courtroom that was built of playing cards. Fearful it would topple if he sneezed again he stood to see where to exit when he noticed there was a weird cacophony of frightening cartoon characters sitting in the jury box and laughing at him—‘Where is this place, why am I here?
‘Off with his head’ The Queen, decreed from atop a crystal throne where she sat regally. She wore robes that swirled like wisps of smoke and on her head precariously sat a massive crown that was held in place by a swarm of specially trained bees. PROVEN-INCREDIBLE-CARRIER-BEES, or PICB’s, as they were known, were trained to make sure the Crown never fell.
The shocked Printer tried desperately to explain again, ‘But your Majesty, I was told to see you about my payment that is long overdue. Jinx promised me you would pay promptly and I knew I could trust the Queen!’
“Printer, Are those roses the ones you printed?” The queen asked as she pointed to a box sitting near the jury. “Why yes, your Majesty, aren’t they glorious?” The printer declared prideful. “Look how rich the red hues are, didn’t I capture the fine detail of each pedal—-why they look real. I do believe this to be some of my finest work.”
“So you admit to printing these roses?” the Queen bellowed. “You admit to blasphemy by giving Me scentless roses —and now you dare come for payment? What is your rationale, why should I pay for this fragrance-free product that cannot be planted nor watered? They are so flimsy My subjects reject them, I deeeeeetest them Printer, and every time I look at your foul product I simply want to chop off your head and plant it as fertilizer!”
The Printer continued to bow hoping to find a way to escape this insanity even if it meant he had to do so without his payment. Again he beseeched the Queen; “But your Majesty, Jinx, ordered printed roses, not seedlings. I am a printer, not a botanist. Had I known I would have supplied you the very best seeds for planting because everyone knows, one does not plant printed pictures! Please let me go back to my shop and I will bring you what you demand. “
“Jinx, Jinx, I know no Jinx, who do you think to fool Printer? Why blame others for your blunders and foul deeds? You WILL PAY—not Me, Printer?” Turning red with anger the Queen bellowed more and more threats to remove his head.
Fearful the Printer was desperately thinking how to avoid his execution when he heard PICB buzz in his ear ‘When I get her attention take that scepter as your payment and RUN from this place as fast as you can!” It flew back to the Queen, but rather than going back to being just another bee In her bonnet, PICB stung her in the ass and the Queen went MAD!
Twisting and turning frantically she swatted PICB trying to stop the stinging. Flailing her arms hap hazardously she desperately tried to get PICB off her fanny but she failed. As she frantically tried to seek relief for her stung bun, the Printer managed to finally escape, Head attached and scepter in hand. With the assistance of PICB, the Printer was now fully paid!
THE MORAL OF THE STORY:
Don’t get pricked by pretending royals, let PICB sting nonpaying customers.