Cinderella and the Furry Entity-Person

"Oh, how I wish I could go to the ball!" sighed Cinderella, throwing herself onto her bed. Suddenly, there was a strange light in the room. "Drat those cheap tallow candles!" thought Cinderella. Then the light flickered and changed into the shape of a young man.

"Who are you?" asked Cinderella uncertainly, wondering if she should scream.

"I am your furry entity-person," said the young man.

"I was rather hoping to see my fairy godmother," retorted Cinderella.

"Tut, tut," said the young man, shaking his head. "You can't say "fairy" because it is considered offensive by people of alternative sexual orientation, and you can't say "god", because it is offensive to people who hold non-theistic beliefs, and you can't say "mother" because it assumes that the role can only be filled by post child-bearing females - therefore - I am your furry entity-person."

"But, but," spluttered Cinderella, "you're a man...and you...you're black!"

"Dear me!" said the young man, "Don't you know that it is considered offensive to catagorise people by colour! For this reason the colours, "black", "brown", "red", "yellow" and "white" have been removed from the Furry language."

"Sorry, I'm sure!" said Cinderella, rather perplexed. "It was just that I was expecting my dear old white-haired fairy ... sorry, furry entity-person."

"Tut, tut, I see that you are ageist as well!"

"I didn't mean be offensive," said Cinderella, wondering how it was possible to say anything in Fairy - oops - Furryland without offending somebody. The furry entity-person sighed. "Let me explain from the beginning. The new Chairperson of Furryland has decreed that stereotyping shall end forthwith, and as a result has ordered that all roles should be filled by the exact opposite of what you humans expect. Thus, we have a giant who is only four feet tall, a dwarf who is a giant, a dragon who is a Cocker Spaniel, and a witch who wouldn't know a spell from a serving spoon."

"Decree and ordered don't sound very democratic," remarked Cinderella. The young man looked uncomfortable for a moment, but he quickly recovered, and said with a sweeping movement of his arm, "Well, it's a sight more democratic than this place is!" He was referring to 18^th century France - and of course, he was right.

"The Chairperson of Furryland," he continued, "wants us furryfolk to spread the anti-stereotyping word into this world - so I am making a start with you, and even as we speak, colleagues of mine - other furry entity-persons - are making a start on the oppressed peasants hereabouts."

"Thank you," said Cinderella, not sure whether she meant it or not.

"So let's begin," said the young man. "Now, as your furry entity-person, I can grant you three wishes..."

"Thank God - I mean, entity - that's not changed!" muttered Cinderella.

"What will they be?"

"Oh that's easy," said Cinderella. "My first wish is to have a beautiful, traditional - you know, crinoline-style - ball gown to wear to Prince Charming's ball."

"Please, please, don't wish for something so oppressive to your sex as a ball gown! Why not go in unisex jeans instead? You can have a designer label if you wish."

Cinderella had never heard of jeans - or designer labels, so she carried straight on with her wish-list: "My second wish is to have a beautiful coach pulled by four white - sorry, very pale - horses, and my third wish is that the prince will want to marry me and make me very rich!"

The young man shook his head sadly. "If I may say so, I think those are very selfish and materialistic wishes. I have here a list of politically-correct wishes which have been approved by the Chairperson of Furryland."

Cinderella tried to protest, but he began to read: "One: that the English shall cease to be Xenophobic and shall fill in the English Channel forthwith and become fully participating members of the European Union. Two: that all under-represented minorities, regardless of gender, ethnic origin..."

"I'd much rather to go to the ball," interrupted Cinderella sweetly.

"Well, you've been warned," said the young man. "Even in traditional stories - such as those by Perrault - selfish wishes sometimes backfire!"

He disappeared in a cloud of smoke of a very pale colour and in his place was the most beautiful ball gown Cinderella had ever imagined. True, it was totally sexist in the way it presented her as something merely ornamental, but it was just what she - in her self-stereotyping silliness - had wished for. As she was putting it on she heard the neighing of horses outside, and pulling back the curtain of her bedroom window, Cinderella saw a beautiful coach with four horses of an extremely pale colour. Soon she was on her way to the ball, and though that was not the best place to be going in France in 1789, Cinderella was blissfully unaware of it.

One hour later she was dancing with Prince Charming in the ballroom of his magnificent chateau. Everything was so gloriously, stereotypically, traditional. The gentlemen strutted masterfully in silk coats and knee-breeches, the ladies were like so many delicate flowers, and the footmen were invisible lackeys who attended to their every need. How stupid her furry entity-person seemed now - and how happy she would be when she was married to Prince Charming and mistress of it all!

Suddenly, there was a rude, persistant knocking on the door, and a few moments later a group of armed peasants burst in shouting: "Liberte, equalite, fraternite!" [ed. add accents]

"What's all this about?" demanded Prince Charming.

"This," said a surly farmer with a pitchfork in his hand, "is the French Revolution - haven't you read your history books?"

"Ah! And may I ask to whom I am speaking?" said Prince Charming, now trying hard to live up to his name.

"I am Citizen Pierre, First Citizen of the Commune, and it is my duty to sentence you, Citizen Charming, and all the aristocrats here, to the guillotine!"

Citizen Pierre ordered that everybody should line up against the wall and passed sentence on each one. Whenever he came to a footman or a maid, he said, "He (or she) is one of us. Set him (or her) free,"

When Citizen Pierre got to Cinderella, she said, "Citizen Pierre, I'm a servant too. I know it's hard to believe, me being in this magnificent ball gown and all, but..."

Citizen Pierre laughed with his comrades. "Ha, ha, that's a good one! Reminds me of Marie Antoinette - she tried to make out she was a shepherdess! Send her to the guillotine with the others!"

Now, if Cinderella had avoided stereotyping herself by wearing a ball gown, Citizen Pierre might have avoided stereotyping her as an aristocrat, and she might have lived happily ever after as his wife and mistress of the commune.