Where Gentlemen Fear to Tread: Part 2

And so, while our heroine flittered off with the other nobles to make final preparations for the big event, Her Prince stepped, for the first time, into the forbidden land of Intimate Apparel . . . looking for panties.



In a moment he was surrounded by the strange, lifeless forms that grew there, a jungle-like morass, it seemed to him, of colors, textures and, uh, shapes. One of the local inhabitants was foraging nearby, but to his relief, paid him no heed.

He stood for a moment, settling, assessing, planning his attack. OK, he thought, confidence returning to his side. I can do this. After all, it’s for her.

But the dark powers that dwelt there had not yet arisen to meet him, and when they did, they were formidable. His breath grew quicker and shorter. His eyes darted to and fro, trying to see clearly and yet not too clearly. Confusion began to close its steely grip on his mind, and Dizziness swept its swirling madness over his senses . . .

But his heart stood fast. The Prize, it whispered. You must find The Prize . . . and then he did. It was there, settled among many others, waiting for him. That’s the one, his heart assured him, that’s the one. It must be, for after all, it was, you know, white.

He reached for it and carefully picked it up, the knight grasping the serpent, and in his hand it felt like . . . well, a lot like any other plastic-wrapped package. He moved as quickly as appeared proper to the check-out stand, paid for the thing, and walked out of that land at last, filling his lungs with the first breath of clean air in many a minute. He was alive, he was unscathed . . . and he had The Prize.

He was once again, The Hero.

Or so he thought.

More tomorrow . . .