You’re Going To Kill Me

Warning: Reading this story will cause mental anguish and distress, blindness and rage. Consult a doctor before reading it.

Shelly Holeinfence had just changed her name from something ridiculous. She did this to win the affections of the object of her desire, or one of his friends. It didn’t work, so she moved deep into the Blue Ridge Mountains. Not, like, under them or anything, you moron, but a fair distance from any civilization.

And that’s when she saw the elves.

She saw them out her window one day, dancing in a fire. And a few seconds later, jumping around and howling in pain as the brighter elves danced around the fire while EMTs (elven medical technicians) attended to the burns. She tried to stay hidden from the elves, but they knew she was there, because it was difficult to hide a cabin in the middle of the mountains.

Over time, like a couple of months if you must know (jeez), she worked up the nerve to venture out into the mountains. I mean, she went to town to buy food and pay some bills and stuff – come on, don’t be ridiculous like her former name. I was talking in terms of exploration and stuff. Anyway, eventually she found a cave, and taking a lit torch because they give off so much more light than unlit ones, she made her way inside the cave.

A few seconds later she came tearing out of the cave, followed closely by an enormous bear. She wondered as she was fleeing for her life why she had ever chosen to look in that cave. Elves don’t live in caves! Fortunately, they do live in the forest, which happened to be nearby, and the bear met an untimely death. Untimely because that bear had been fated to live a long life and bear many young cubs. Get it? Bear? She stopped running when she saw the bear drop, and when she examined it as closely as she dared, which was 100 yards away with a pair of binoculars, she saw a large arrow protruding from the bear’s heart. The rest of the bear was a couple of feet away. As she looked at this gruesome scene, one of the elves came up right next to her. This freaked her out completely until she put the binoculars down and realized he was still several yards away. And he was extremely hot. But she was angry, and took a couple of angry steps towards the elf in anger.

“Shot through the heart! And you’re to blame!”
“I was saving you, you vision of non-ugliness.”
She was taken aback by his sort of compliment because he was so hot. “Well, I could have outrun that bear. My house is just right over there.” She pointed to her house, which was attached to the porch she was standing on.
“I… I’m sorry, um……”
“I say, I’m sorry, Ms….”
“Uh-huh, go on.”
“Well see, I just wanted to tell you that I wanted to save your pretty much above average body from the bear, and I wasn’t aware that you weren’t in danger anymore, so I apologize directly to you, uh…”
“Right, and what else?”
“What’s your goddamned name, lady?”
“Oh! It’s Shelly Holeinfence.”
“Okay, then I’m sorry, Ms. Shelly, for causing needless harm to a woodland creature that was about to maul you to death.”
“That’s okay, I appreciate the sentiment, uh…”
“My name is Presley.”
“Thank you, Presley. I am glad you were thinking of me.”
“Ms. Shelly, I have thought of nothing else ever since I saw you peeking out your window a couple of months ago. Not even the howling screams of my friends could have distracted me from your decent looking frontal cranium area.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has nearly said about me.”
“There is additional commentary drawn from the same source, Ms. Shelly.”
“Do tell!”
“Now that I am this close to you, I have to say that you smell better than a broken skunk.”
“And your callipygiosity is matched only by your nigh pulcritudinousness.”
“Hang on while I grab my dictio-”
“I am envious of your ocular lenses which seem to reflect all light just like a staggering drunkard reflects slingshot stones.”
“Are you… is that even…what?”
“Have I not empleasoned you with my speakage, Ms. Shelly?”
“I’m cool. Want to come in for some hot spiced apple beverage?”
“Yeah, that would make me very excidered.”

They went into her humble and tiny cabin, through the foyer, past the first kitchen, around the fireplace, through the den, past the parlor, and back to the wine (and apple) cellar before finally retiring to the movie theater/bowling alley. Presley could not believe the squalor that Shelly lived in, and vowed in his head to save her again, only not from a bear, and not by shooting her through the heart with an arrow.
“Ms. Shelly, now that we know each other, and trust each other, let me take you away from all this, and back to my castle, for I am a prince among elves, and I’m throwing this bitchin’ party.”
“But I don’t have anything to wear to a castle party for elves thrown in the middle of the forest in a glittering city, except these 6 outfits in my walk-in closet.”
“No matter, poor and not bad-looking human female.I have just the outfit in mind. The Royal Lefting! I will have my maidens dress you and prepare you for this celebration. You will be the belle of the ball, as they say down under.”
“In Australia?”
“No, underground. It’s a dwarven saying.”

They left immediately, taking their appletinis with them, and eventually made it to the castle right next door. Presley showed Shelly the way to the dressing room, where maidens awaited with all kinds of shit that women do to themselves before big parties. She was waxed, and buffed, and pureed, and allowed to breathe, and cured, and smoked, and other things that sounded more like cooking or building a deck than ‘getting ready’. At last, she was ready to get dressed, but the maidens made her promise to wear a blindfold while she was being fitted.
“Why do I have to wear this?”
“Putting on the Lefting is a secret elf thing. We have a certain way of doing things, and we don’t want it getting out.”
“Well, okay. Considering what you’ve already done for me, I guess this will be okay.”
She let them put the blindfold on, and then felt strong but supple hands strapping and twisting and tying and binding until finally, the Lefting was on. She felt the blindfold come off.
When she opened her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror, she looked pretty freaking sweet. It was a pretty cool outfit – in fact, it was the best dress she had ever worn. She looked amazing. She felt so pretty! And really friendly, because of the appletinis.

She walked out to the center of the courtyard and strutted her stuff – she was so spaced out. She was high as a kite, and she thought the crowd just might stop to check her out. And they did. They were amazed at how amazing her amazing outfit looked, and how amazing she looked in her amazing outfit. It was just…. words escaped them, the way the Royal Lefting looked on her. And yet, they also had kind of a tragic deal on their faces or something. It was a little disconcerting – the concert had actually stopped. It was like they knew something.
“What are you all looking at? Do I have something on my face?”
“No, milady. Well, a bit of makeup and eye shadow and mascara and blush and concealer and foundation and lipstick, but other than that, no.” It was odd that all of them had said all that at the same time in unison, but she barely paid attention to that. She was focusing on the prize, baby.
“What is it, then? You all know what this means, don’t you? A prince takes a woman to the Royal Elvish Castle, dresses her up in this awesome dress, and throws a party? He’s going to ask me to marry him! I’m going to be a princess!”
The crowd suddenly found something else to look at, except for one old woman who was apparently in charge of this sort of thing. She was shaking her head sadly.
“No, Ms. Shelly.”
“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“He’s not going to propose. Not tonight, or any other night. At least not to you. Not to you, or any other woman.”
“I don’t understand, old elf woman whose name I don’t know.”
“You see, Ms. Shelly, he will never ask any woman to marry him, because he… doesn’t fancy women.”
“Doesn’t fancy women? How could he not fancy women?”
“Ms. Shelly, haven’t you figured it out by now?”
“Figured what out?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Shelly, but he is a homosexual, and on top of that, he’s a fashion designer. The blindfold was put on you because…”
Shelly gasped with the gravity of what happened.
“Yes, Ms. Shelly. I’m afraid so. Presley Elvish has built the Lefting.”


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