snarkyhetalian:

etherslide:

“Why I Wasn’t Contracted to Write Beauty and the Beast” by I have no idea who, and desperately want to know.  If anyone does, please tell me!

Edit:  Through knmajorblogs I have discovered the genius behind this piece of art.  The genius in question is LordJazor !  Thank you!

Caption: [narrated by a deep voice worthy of Morgan Freeman with generic fairy tale music playing in the background]

“Once upon a time, in a faraway land, the young prince lived in a shining castle.  Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was an absolute douche canoe.

“But then, one winter’s night, the ugliest human you have ever seen, short of the two penny crap you see in movies like Underworld or whatever, came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold.

“After evacuating his bowels for four minutes, the prince sneered at the gift and told the CGI mishap to get fucked.  But she warned him, not to be such an apocalyptic fuckhat to strangers and that beauty is found within.

“In an effort to be slightly more polite but failing miserably, he told her to crawl in the nearest hole and roll about in it screaming, ‘north north squig.’  But instead, the old woman’s ugliness melted away, and she was hella fine.

“The prince bitched his face right off.  But it was too late, for she has seen that he really was a fuck.  And as punishment she transformed him into an Ozzy Osborne mistake and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there.

“Ashamed of his now seemingly odd but not necessarily completely disarming appearance, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world.  Because cellphone signal didn’t do a wad of shit in the mountains and there wasn’t a cell phone tower for like, bunches of years.

“The rose, the aforementioned tricky bent had offered was truly enchanted as all get out, which would bloom until he was finally legally able to guzzle wine like tomorrow’s a dream, if he could learn to not be a pile of indigestible fuck, and could find someone who would at least clean up after his constant mess by the time the last petal fell. Then, the spell will be broken.

“If not, well…you know…stuff.

“As the years passed, he fell down the stairs…”

[sounds of screaming and falling down the stairs]

“Oh, I’m sorry, into despair, and lost all hope for who could ever learn to love such a cock waffle.”