"Repunzal, Repunzal, let down your hair," the prince shouts.
"Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!" she shouts back.
Awkward. . . silence (and a half).
"Oops, wrong fairytale," she shouts.
"That's okay," the prince says," So will you let down your hair?"
"Gramma what big eyes you have!" a little girl in a red cape says stummbling through the forest.
"Hey this is my fairytale!" the prince says.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she walks away shaking her head in puzzled silence.
"Can we stop changing the tale please?" he says," Can you let down your hair now?"
"Cinderella, mop the floors!" a woman shouts from far into the woods.
"Shut up! This is Repunzal!" the prince yells.
"On her sixteenth birthday-" a evil looking woman says from behind a tree.
"I don't care!" he growls.
"Hey can you tell me where the seven dwarves live, I'm lost?" a pretty girl asks.
"No, you don't even belong here!" he says.
"No one will ever guess my name!" a little man says jumping with glee into the clearing.
"Go away, Rupaltstiltskin!" the prince says," I give up, save yourself Repunzal. I don't care anymore you fat cow."
He turns and stalks away. Then rushing back into the clearing he stops in wild manner. He looks like he could kill someone.
"What is wrong with this author?" he shouts.
Awkward. . . silence (and a half).
"There is nothing wrong with me," bloodange77 says.
All the fairytales look around for erie twilight zone music.