Ding Dong

Since I really liked the idea of an alternate fierce fairytale world I just went for another. After questioning eternal love in „Ever after“ there are now some moral aspects on the menu. Enjoy! 

Ding Dong, the witch is dead.
Which old witch?
Well, uh, the wicked witch of Wicked&Thornes Lawyers, working exclusively for Magicks Pharma Corporation, the most despised company in the whole country. Needless to say, her engagement as Magicks’ official attorney didn’t contribute to her popularity.
Unforgotten (or maybe unforgiven) is the Magicks’ Rainbows case. Rainbows, being nutritional supplements for children, were pressed into funny animal shapes and sold in nice colourful boxes. Just the shit kids love. In the trial, two parents sued Magicks Pharma for grievous bodily harm. After consuming half a box of Rainbows, which they mistook for candy, the little boy and girl went completely berserk and ran out of home. Their parents found them in the forest. They were disorientated and in an awful state, having eaten several bits of wood, chewed from a lumberjack’s cabin. The kids were convinced it was made from gingerbread, though.
Wicked&Thornes not only got Magicks off. They also sued the parents for defamation and domestic disturbance.
And now Wicked snuffed it, getting the whole country into celebration mode. Well, maybe not the whole…

‘It’s a goddamn tragedy,’ Thornes pours a dash of his best whiskey into the tumbler on his desk.
‘How about the children?’ I ask.
‘They are with her sister.’ He takes a deep draught. ,Damn this trial! Damn this little candy-ass Dorothy!’
I frown. Sure the lawsuit about blackout-inducing diet pills didn’t go too well. Main plaintiff: a royal couple whose princess daughter fell into a 100-day coma after an overdose of the stuff. Dorothy, a young ambitious barrister, made the whole case a state affair. The obvious potential of the pills being misused as rape drugs was only one aspect. The personal inclination of Wicked herself as a major investor for the product was another.
Dorothy brought up the intimidating facts, thus bringing Wicked in cold sweat, in which, as some newspapers wrote, she has now drowned in after all, making Dorothy the heroine of the day.
‘Do you want to know how it really happened?’ Thornes sighs, handing me a freshly filled glass. Actually, I don’t. But I drink silently.
‘Slipped in her goddamn bathtub! Knocked her head on the rim and fell facedown in the water. When her little boy found her it was already too late.’
‘So she did drown… literally?!’
‘I guess there’s a truth in every shit the paper writes.’
‘Anything I can do for you?’ I finish my drink.
‘Making Dorothy rest her case, getting me a new partner… only a little miracle.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Leaving the office, I can’t deny the stale taste in my mouth. What if it wasn’t Wicked but Dorothy who bought it with a splash? Public dismay? National mourning? Unfiltered idealisation making her an icon of righteous justice?
Concerning Wicked, however, mother of two, it is just the fate she deserved. The well earned punishment for… well, doing her job I guess.

Later that evening I’m overcoming my grim thoughts in my favourite restaurant across the corner.
‘Diet pills as rape drugs?!’ My friend, the dragon, bursts into a laugh.
‘Well, yes. Obviously, only three at a time induce an immediate blackout,’ I explain.
‘Never had to use such things, getting some princess into my claws.’
‘I think, it’s a question of potential.’ I take another sip of red wine from my glass.
‘I rather trust in my own potential.’ He drinks up. ‘Hey, waiter! Can you get us a new bottle? Thanks.’
Before my drunken mind can make up any kind of witty response to his ‘my potential’ claim I spot a VIP visitor to the place.
‘Isn’t that our little heroine of the day?’ My friend has recognised her as well. I nod and he waves to the waiter once more. ‘One glass of your best champagne for our star attorney!’
The small guy, a dwarf with an extraordinary protruding beard, approaches with our whateverth bottle of red wine.
‘That would be our Clos du Magick,’ he claims, filling our glasses. ‘Actually, the only champagnelike stuff we have here.’
‘So, there you go!’ The dragon renders a stack of gold coins to the dwarf, confirming the order.
Our curious eyes follow the little fellow handing over the heavy 10 oz goblet to Dorothy. He points at us with a smile, making us cheer in her direction. She just returns a restrained bow, though sipping politely on the glass.
As the evening wears on, we take into repeating the champagne reward procedure once in a while, whenever we have our glasses refilled. To our big surprise, Dorothy empties all of them. To our even bigger surprise, she staggers over to our table after champagne no 5, however, not for returning her gratitude.
‘A’right guys,’ she prattles, ‘wht’s this chmpagnething all ‘bout?’
‘Oh, we just wanted to express our admiration for your work at the trial,’ the dragon replies, looking solemnly into her eyes, while I have to suppress an upcoming giggle. Dorothy, however, falls for his look as many others before.
‘M’kay, but I guess I’m d’ne with ch’mpagne right now.’ Ponderously turning her head in my direction, she adds: ‘D’you have s’me headache p’lls?’
‘Sure!’ I hand her a couple from my handbag.

The next day renders some revelations. Not only for our friend Dorothy, of whose alcohol dependency I hear only some hours later. After all, she wakes up in Thornes’ office, having trashed half of the furniture and consumed most of his collection of twenty-year-old single malts.
Finding her snoring on his desk in the morning, Thornes’ offers her to maintain absolute silence over the incident, provided she joins Wicked&Thornes as his new co-partner immediately. Most interestingly, she signs the contract on the spot, since he also assures her Wicked’s full payment as well as her Magicks’ shares.

The moment Thornes calls me on my cell phone to tell me the miraculous story, I’m still fighting with my hangover.
‘You’re behind all this, aren’t you?’, he shouts excitedly. ‘Did you know about her drinking issues?’
I hesitate.
‘Well, of course,’ I lie. ‘I mean, who didn’t?’
‘How can I ever thank you?’
‘Send me some headache pills for a start?!’ I close my eyes, listening to the constant hammering in my forehead.
‘You shouldn’t have given all of yours to Dorothy!’
‘I haven’t,’ I reply. ‘Never had any. And by the way, if you can get your hands on a fresh jar of Rainbows… just pack them on top! Guess I’m out of supply by now.’

Some days later, I receive a present box. Content: Five bottles of Clos du Magick, a jar of Magicks’ Rainbows for adults and a package of gingerbread. Satisfied with the gifts, I open a bottle.
The next moment someone is ringing at my door. Must be the dragon. I think he deserves some reward as well.
The witch is smiling.
Ding dong.

C. Holister (c) 2017

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