Just Because

JUST BECAUSE

Once, in the kingdom of Detrimental, there ruled a young king and a beautiful but not-quite-so-young queen whose names were Disaster and Dooma. Despite their catastrophic naming system, this kingdom was lush and luxurious and beautiful, and had everything except that which everyone wanted most. One finds that in fairy tales, this is most often the case. People have everything except that which they want most, so they give up everything they do have to get the thing they don't have which they want the most, but when they finally get it they realize that it wasn't so very great after all.

To summarize, King Disaster and Queen Dooma did not have a child. This was no great tragedy, because they had only been married for a year. However, when that entire year passed without a sign of a baby, Queen Dooma over reacted. She knew, from reading lots of silly romances, that a queen is never any good unless she's had at least eight or ten strapping babies. So before she'd even give herself enough time to settle down into her newly married life, she began to call for the court fairies and magicians to help her out. None of them would, although they each declined as politely as they could.

"Oh, no, honored Queen, I couldn't help you. Knowing my spells, your baby would turn up with blue hair or something!"

Or in another case, "My lady, my magic is temporarily gone from a particularly taxing magical experiment I'm doing."

The excuses went on and on. Finally, after the exhaustingly fruitless time period of one and a half years, one particularly old fairy agreed to help the queen.

"Yes, my dear," she said as she sucked her empty gums. "I will help you, but mind, I can't promise anything special about your daughter."

The queen sighed. "Oh. It's a daughter? Must it be a daughter?"

The old fairy looked at her for a moment, sharp eyes twinkling. "Yes. My ability is not to help you bear a child, but to see the future. And I see that within the next year, you will bear a child. Just live your normal life, my child, and you'll do fine."

The queen sighed again, this time happily. "Oh, good. If I bear a child naturally, there won't be any complications. No nasty curses and whatnot. Thank you, dear Fairy!"

The fairy grinned. "Oh, call me Meg, please."

And so, as the old fairy had predicted, the queen bore a young girl. The girl was born with black, thick hair that, as she grew, slowly faded into brown. Her eyes, which started as blue, also turned brown. So she grew as a normal child should, eating everything she could get her hands on. The Queen and the King were marvelously happy.

Trouble started, though, when the baby began to talk. Her first word, lisped out in a cute baby voice, was "Why?" Her first phrase was, "How come?"

The baby princess may have been cute, but she certainly was talkative. She never stopped asking questions. No one complained to the king and queen, of course, because to do so would mean immediate punishment. But she pestered the life out of everyone. The queen had named her 'Despair Destruction Derelict Doomsday of Detrimental,' but all the fancy names soon disappeared under the prevalent nickname: Why-baby.

"Why does the sun shine?" The Why-baby asked her harried mother one day.

"Well...it shines to keep the world alive," said the queen, triumphant.

"But why does it want to keep the world alive?" asked the Why-baby.

"Well...it must. God keeps it there."

"But why does God keep it there?"

I won't even tell you what poor Queen Dooma tried to answer to this question. Or any of the questions that followed it. Let's just say that everyone was fed up of the word 'why' and by the time Princess Why-baby was seven years old, none would have mourned had she gone suddenly and inexplicably mute.

This sad and frustrating state of affairs continued for some time, the entire castle becoming like a huge kettle, put on to slowly simmer. And you know what happens with simmering. Usually, it starts to boil over, and if you don't let off some steam, it sometimes blows up completely.

One young nobleman of the court saw the way things were going, and knew that soon the kettle of the court was going to overflow. He thought perhaps he should help out the king and queen. So he sat in his rooms day after day, night after night, for an entire week, trying to think of a way to help that didn't involve killing or maiming the princess.

Finally, he had it. "Ah, I finally have it!" he cried and, grabbing his sweeping crimson cloak, he dashed inside to the king and queen. "I have it," he cried ecstatically. "Finally!"

The queen slowly looked him over. "What, pray, is it, that you finally have?"

The young nobleman looked at her as if she were stupid, which is never a good way to look at a queen. "The answer, of course!"

The king snorted irritably. "The answer to what?"

The young nobleman looked at them both blankly. "The question."

"What is the question?" asked the king and queen together.

The nobleman grinned. "Ask me a question. Any question. The hardest question you can think of to answer."

The queen, although she had her doubts as to whether this man was entirely sane, asked him a question. "Why is the sky blue in daytime and black at night?"

The nobleman smirked. "Because," he answered, nodding wisely.

"Because what?" asked the queen.

"Just because," answered the nobleman.

The king sat up and began to take notice. "Why is a bathtub called a bathtub? Why isn't it called a 'torture chamber tub'?"

The nobleman grinned smugly. "Because."

"Because what?" the king and queen asked together excitedly.

"Just because."

The queen looked at the king and nodded. The king nodded back. The nobleman nodded at both of them. They nodded to him. Then they all shared a secret, triumphant smile.

At dinnertime, more people than usual gathered at the table, and more servants peeked through the curtains than were needed to serve the royal family and their noblemen. The first course had hardly been set down in front of them when sure enough, through the silence came the little voice of Princess Why-baby.

"Mummy..." she started, smiling a little and cutting her eyes sideways at her poor mother.

"Yes, dear?" the queen answered calmly, taking a bite of her fish.

"Why is it that a fork is called a fork instead of the spoon being the fork, the knife being the spoon and the fork being knife, and then all of them together, instead of being called silverware, could be called plates, and plates could be called cups, and cups could be called silverware?"

Everyone around them drew in a breath of wonder. That was a masterpiece of a question, indeed. The best one the princess had ever asked. The queen, however, didn't even bat an eyelash.

"Because," she said, taking another bite of fish.

The princess stared at her, completely baffled. "But...but..." she broke off, bewildered. "Because what?"

The queen smiled serenely. "Just because."

Everyone let out a sigh and smiled with the queen. The princess looked worried.

"Daddy?"

"Yes dear?" he answered, smiling as if he had a secret.

"How come the moon has little lines on it that you can see, but the sun doesn't, and how come you can look at the moon but not the sun, and how come the moon gets smaller and smaller every night but the sun doesn't?"

Everyone held their breath and looked to the king.

"Because," he answered, smirking.

"B-because what?" Stammered the princess, really worried now.

"Just because," said the king quietly, hiding his smug smile behind his cup.

The princess looked around, bewildered. Her face nearly crumpled in upon itself, and she turned red. Clenching her fists, she stood up and bellowed at the top of her voice to the entire hall: "WHYYYY?"

There was complete silence for a moment, then everyone answered together.

"Just because!"

The princess ran out through the double doors and everyone grinned at each other, knowing that there would never be more trouble with the princess.

And they were right. The princess never again asked impossible questions that she knew no one could answer, because they gave her no more satisfaction. After all, what's the use of trying to confuse someone unless they're actually confused? And how much worse is it when you end up being the confused one?

And that's the end of this tale. Why is it the end, you ask? While you're at it, why don't you ask why I ever started telling it? I'll give you the answer, and you know what it'll be.

Just because.

Haha. Pretty good.

"Why-baby" is the funniest name I've heard in a while. That alone cracked me up.

That's adorable! I especially love the ending. The names are fairly ridiculous, but so is the story, so I suppose it can be forgiven. Of course, "Meg" doesn't really fit in there.

The nobleman grinned. "Oh, sorry, I forgot you didn't know yet. Look, we all know that Princess Why-baby is driving everyone in the castle crazy, right? Well here's my plan. Answer everything she asks with 'just because.' It works with every question! Look, just try one."

In my opinion, this paragraph is telling too much. It's giving away the answer -- forgive the obvious pun -- before we're allowed to really build suspense.

Work your way around that, and I think this'll turn out to be a very cute, very humorous story.

Sokool, you write the most hilarious fable-like shorts. ^_^ I've got to agree with Crysi - don't give it away from the get!

Why-Baby is a sidesplitting name there. But really, it's light-hearted without being empty-headed; and the dialogue is apt and clever.

I'm going to have to re-read it for the levity. There's too little written on the careless side that's not acidicand you doubtless have a gift for cleverness without stinging anyone.



IMP



(If you'd like a more in-depth critique or look at structure, PM me by all means. ^_^)

Hey Sokool - as requested, quite happy to look over it more fastidiously. ^_^

You have a nice sense of pacing on sentences; well-varied, especially for the first paragraph.

People have everything except that which they want most, so they give up everything they do have to get the thing they don't have which they want the most, but when they finally get it they realize that it wasn't so very great after all.

Saying what is, without a doubt, known - but with such circuitous circumvention, it evokes Jack Sparrow. ^_~ Most often, I'd avoid the lengthy in anything light-hearted. Only here you've kept it moving with brief words and silliness; works well. ^_^

To summarize, King Disaster and Queen Dooma did not have a child. This was no great tragedy, because they had only been married for a year. However, when that entire year passed without a sign of a baby, Queen Dooma over reacted.

Over reacted -- ought to be -- overeacted.

But on that point, 'overeacted' is a bit flat. You might want to either 1) make it obvious understatement (example: Dooma rather overeacted, if doing [ blank mad inanity] could be called simply overeacting) or 2) describe precisely what she did do?

So before she'd even give herself enough time to settle down into her newly married life, she began to call for the court fairies and magicians to help her out.

You may want to clear the above up, on tense and precision. Try it like this?

So before she had even [i]given herself [s]enough[/s] time to settle down into her newly married life, she began to call for the court fairies and magicians [s]to help her out.[/s]

Final remark doubles what's implied - of course they're needed to 'help her out'.

'Enough' tends to repeat back on 'even'.

None of them would, although they each declined as politely as they could.

Somehow, the sentence is terribly amusing. I've a picture of the frazzled queen staggering into fairies' quarters or the magicians' tower, and looking so mad they all jump and mumble hopelessly confused courtesies saying no. ^_^

"Oh, no, Honored Queen, I couldn't help you. Knowing my spells, your baby would turn up with blue hair or something!"

As a title, 'honored' really ought to be 'Honored' (capital). I like the 'polite excuse' though. ^_^

Or in another case, "My lady, my magic is temporarily gone from a particularly taxing magical experiment I'm doing."

Perhaps, especially in the above, adding some spoke eccentricity would give these outbursts more hilarity and more character? Does he say 'um'? Is he saying it smoothly, while knocking things off his table? Like as not, merely adding some punctuation for pauses, or 'er', 'um'? Suggestion - they're all right at the moment as well. ^_^

The excuses went on and on. Finally, after the exhaustingly fruitless time period of one and a half years, one particularly old fairy agreed to help the queen.

She's been beggin magical personages for a YEAR andm ore for help with her baby problems? Oy. That would be exhausting. Has she driven the palace mad yet?

The queen sighed. "Oh. It's a daughter? Must it be a daughter?"

The old fairy looked at her for a moment, sharp eyes twinkling. "Yes. My ability is not to help you bear a child, but to see the future. And I see that within the next year, you will bear a child. Just live your normal life, my child, and you'll do fine."

The queen sighed again, this time happily. "Oh, good. If I bear a child naturally, there won't be any complications. No nasty curses and whatnot. Thank you, dear Fairy!"

The fairy grinned. "Oh, call me Meg, please."

Amusing dialogue. But watch your tendency to begin each paragraph and remark with one of the character's actions - it's a bit noticeable the third or fourth time. ^_^

Trouble started, though, when the baby began to talk. Her first word, lisped out in a cute baby voice, was "Why?" Her first phrase was, "How come?"

Ah, I've heard quite a few babies - five younger siblings and all that. But they all have different sorts of voices, if most of them (not all) were charming. What does her voice sound like?

The baby princess may have been cute, but she certainly was talkative. She never stopped asking questions.

A bit awkward, especially in transition from the last. Perhaps -

The baby princess was undoubtably cute, but she was even more talkative. She never stopped talking; and all she talked were questions.

Something like that?

No one complained to the king and queen, of course, because to do so would mean immediate punishment. But she pestered the life out of everyone.

The punishment could be an amusing side-note. But 'pestered the life out...' etc. comes as repetition of what's been said and clutters the narrative, I think.

The queen had named her 'Despair Destruction Derelict Doomsday of Detrimental,' but all the fancy names soon disappeared under the prevalent nickname: Why-baby.

Prevalent? Ah, well - it does imply it became rather more common than her proper name. But maybe something like 'inescapable' would be more precise?

Why-baby is hilarious though. Just imagining the palace staff murmuring behind their hands - O heavens, it's Why-baby coming along. Look busy! Don't let her talk.... Even funnier knowing too many kids who are quite like that. ^_^

I won't even tell you what poor Queen Dooma tried to answer to this question. Or any of the questions that followed it.

The narrator's abrupt interjection is a little jarring. You may want to keep to third-person without omniscient remarks. ^_^ So, rather than what you have above, describe the Queen's loss for words?

The Queen grasped uselessly at what seemed even more useless sounds in face of Why-baby's implacable questions.

...something along those lines?

Let's just say that everyone was fed up of the word 'why' and by the time Princess Why-baby was seven years old, none would have mourned had she gone suddenly and inexplicably mute.

Ha - mute. ^_^ If you'd like to keep the 'Let's just say...' I think you can manage it. But the mute bit would and will fit regardless.

This sad and frustrating state of affairs continued for some time, the entire castle [s]becoming [/s]like a huge kettle, put on to slowly simmer. And you know what happens with simmering. Usually, it starts to boil over, and if you don't let off some steam, it sometimes blows up completely.

More narrator's talking and explaining. You might strike the adjectives at the beginning entirely - they're shown easily enough. And try it sans 'becoming' which is a helping verb that may not need to help anything along there.

One young nobleman of the court saw the way things were going, and knew that soon the kettle of the court was going to overflow. He thought perhaps he should help out the king and queen. So he sat in his rooms day after day, night after night, for an entire week, trying to think of a way to help that didn't involve killing or maiming the princess.

You've done a neat enough job so far of giving the characters fairy tale characterisations, at least, and in a few words. ^_^ It's nicely done - names do it; "Why-baby" naturally, is characterised in just that. But I wonder if this young nobleman might be given some character? Currently, he's faceless and a bit undefined mentally as well.

If he sees things about to blow, why doesn't he slip out to avoid the explosion? If he thinks it's his duty, well, that would characterise his attitude, merely mentioning it. Is he somewhat hapless? A distant cousin? Fond of Why-baby despite himself?

Again the though, the quiet understatement of 'trying to think of a way...that didn't involve killing or maiming...' is more than funny. ^_^

Finally, he had it. "Ah, I finally have it!" he cried and, grabbing his sweeping crimson cloak, he dashed inside to the king and queen. "I have it," he cried ecstatically. "Finally!"

The queen slowly looked him over. "What, pray, is it, that you finally have?"

The young nobleman looked at her as if she were stupid, which is never a good way to look at a queen. "The answer, of course!"

The king snorted irritably. "The answer to what?"

The young nobleman looked at them both blankly. "The question."

"What is the question?" asked the king and queen together.

The actual exchange, divorced from any narrative description, is another example of the quirky, circuitous silliness. ^_^

Notice though, you're beginning your dialogue again with action, nearly every time.

The nobleman grinned smugly. "Because."

"Because what?" the king and queen asked together excitedly.

"Just because."

The queen looked at the king and nodded. The king nodded back. The nobleman nodded at both of them. They nodded to him. Then they all shared a secret, triumphant smile.

...more amusement. Switch-up adjectives though, if you can. 'Triumphant' and 'excited' appear quite a bit. 'Smug' was a nice break from that. See if you might put something similar or more pointed in the place of the others?

"B-because what?" Stammered the princess, really worried now.

'Stammered' ought to begin in lower-case.

There was complete silence for a moment, then everyone answered together.

Ach, 'answered' is such a drab word for an entire court, elated and amused and perhaps still perplexed themselves, screaming at Why-baby. Could they roar? Shout? Bellow?

The princess ran out through the double doors and everyone grinned at each other, knowing that there would never be more trouble with the princess.

...these anonymous courtiers are doing a lot things 'at each other' and 'together'. You want to drop that addition; it does tell what anyone would guess. ^_^

And they were right. The princess never again asked impossible questions that she knew no one could answer, because they gave her no more satisfaction. After all, what's the use of trying to confuse someone unless they're [s]actually[/s] confused? And how much worse is it when you end up being the confused one?

Though a bit telling, it does fit the fairy tale tone. (I'd drop 'actually', it being a bit superfluous and obscuring 'confused'.)

And that's the end of this tale. Why is it the end, you ask? While you're at it, why don't you ask why I ever started telling it? I'll give you the answer, and you know what it'll be.

Just because.

Well, have to end on 'Because'. ^_^ Very apt ending, light and full-circle sort of thing; and all in all, it's a great piece.






IMP