Lawrence Millman
Travel Author

Lawrence Millman is the author of 11 books, including such titles as Last Places, Our Like Will Not Be There Again, Northern Latitudes, and Lost in the Arctic. He is a Fellow of the Explorers Club and has a mountain named after him in East Greenland. He has traveled to Greenland 14 times, Labrador 9 times, and Hudson Bay 7 times, but he's never been to Paris, France (he's been twice to Paris, Maine, however)."
According to Lawrence, "I practice what I call 'creative ineptitude.' I habitually misread my compass. I take wrong turns. I fall through ice or plummet down mountains. But if everything went well, the trip would be totally boring, and I wouldn't have a thing to write about..."
THE TWINS AND THE FROG: A FAIRY TALE
by Lawrence Millman
Once upon a time a queen named Ephemera gave birth to Siamese twin princesses. The moment she saw the girls, Ephemera exclaimed: "Horrors! I've spawned a pair of bloody freaks." Whereupon she died from acute embarrassment. Their father King Peter named his daughters Annabelle and Claribelle, which also happened to be the names of his favorite courtesans. A more tolerant person than the Queen, he was likewise more mercenary, so he tried to capitalize on the girls' unusual physique.
Annabelle and Claribelle possessed a hump, which in those dark and superstitious times was considered a sure sign of God's grace. So it was that the King set up a concession for his daughters outside the royal palace. Soon peasants were coming from far and wide to feel the girls' hump, by which they hoped to be cured of their various afflictions. The King charged three splondurs a feel.
Over the years, so many peasants felt the hump that it wore down, then vanished altogether. The King called upon Merlin, but despite the magician's incantations the girls remained humpless. This was not a good sign. For if a hump indicated God's grace, the disappearance of a hump meant, well, anyone can do the arithmetic. Soon one of the King's knights reported a high fever, the swelling of his lymph nodes, and red spots on his skin.
"It's the Plague," declared Merlin, and he told the knight to take 30mgs of Streptomycin twice daily for a week. Unfortunately, Streptomycin hadn't been invented yet, and the knight ended up at the Great Roundtable in the Sky. That was just the beginning. The Plague ran rampant throughout the land, killing young and old, rich and poor, but mostly young and poor. In an effort to stamp it out, people tried stamping on each other, but to no avail.
As for King Peter, he attempted to fight off a short life expectancy with alchemy and cheap whores. One morning Merlin burst into his bedchamber while he was carousing with a girl named Tammi.
"Pardon me, my liege," said the magician, "but I've just had a symbolic dream."
He went on to describe this dream: There was a chorus line of giant rats, all holding hands, in the middle of which was the King himself. They were performing hits from the Dark Ages, including that old favorite, "I Got Superstition." At last the ensemble left the stage, but only the rats returned for a curtain call.
"Read your dream," said the King.
"Not to be pessimistic, sire, but it says that you will soon by carried off by the Plague."
"Rubbish!" laughed the King. For twelve of his royal forebears had died of syphilis, and he was not one to break with tradition.
"Dreams don't lie," said Merlin.
A fortnight later the King died of tertiary syphilis, thus proving that heredity doth make a mockery of our dreams. Now Annabelle and Claribelle ascended to the throne. They were eighteen years old, and they'd been in a peevish mood ever since they lost their hump. Their new position of power gave them the chance to turn this mood into political action. First they imprisoned anarchists, atheists, and asthmatics in dank dungeons, then they made literacy a crime second only to high treason.
One day Claribelle tripped over an elf, fell down, and broke her hip. The hip in question happened to be the same one she shared with Annabelle. Lying in traction, the twins swore vengeance on all elves. "Wipe out the little buggers!" they told their knights. Soon knights were roaming the countryside and spearing elves en brochette. Those they didn't spear, they squashed. Those they didn't squash, they dropkicked into the nearest sewage ditch. The remaining elves needed help, and they needed it fast, so they paid a visit to Merlin.
"Soften their heart, Merlin," the elves said.
"I'm too senile."
"But you were once a great magician."
"Those girls don't need magic," Merlin said. "They need sex..."
But what man would be willing to risk life and limb for a tumble with the twins? the elves wondered. The Black Knight, of course! For he'd always said he wanted to sleep with two honkies at once.
"You gotta be shittin' me, man," said the Black Knight. "I ain't sleepin' with them chicks."
Well, that's it for us, thought the elves. We're going to join gnomes, hobbits, and pixies on the list of extinct species. Then they had an idea. They headed down to the nearest swamp and began kissing frogs. Most of the frogs they kissed just hopped away with disgusted looks on their faces, but one of them turned into a handsome, well-hung prince named Charming.
"How long were you a frog, Charming?" the elves asked.
"312 goddamn years!"
"Wow!" exclaimed the elves. "Bet you're pretty horny, huh?"
"Horny ain't the word for it. You ever screwed a frog? I mean, I still had the brain of a prince..."
"Say no more, friend. We've got just the broad for you."
The elves led Charming to the royal palace. He still hopped a little, and he still had a few warts. Otherwise, he was a real hunk. The twins instantly fell for him.
"Hey, Big Boy," said Annabelle. "Why don't you join us?"
"I just love that stale, swampy smell in a man," remarked Claribelle.
After 312 goddamn years, Charming was only too glad to comply. He climbed into traction with the twins, and soon all three were making the beast with two backs. All of a sudden Charming turned back into a frog. For the elves hadn't realized that you have to kiss a frog fully on the lips, not give it a quick peck on the cheek, if you want an irrevocable Prince.
Now the twins were stunned at the sight of a little green amphibian squatting where a virile young man had been only a moment before...and not only stunned, but furious. They called a meeting of knights and demanded that every frog in the kingdom be summarily executed. "And don't forget the tadpoles!" they added.
But our fairy tale ends on an upbeat note. With all the knights wallowing around in swamps and the twins stuck in traction, the elves took over the kingdom. Right away they passed a law banning syphilis and peevish moods. Merlin died. Ordinary hygiene and weekly visits from a cleaning woman cured the Plague. Merlin died yet again. And everyone -- or at least every elf -- lived happily ever after. |