Cinderbrella

this is my first of possibly many fairy tale parodies. This one is obviously a parody of the classic Cinderella, and I hope to make you all laugh with this mzwc original. W/o further ado, I present

Cinderbrella

So once there was a girl who lived in a village with a giant castle in the center. By girl, I mean young woman. By young woman, I mean old enough to consider marriage. In this time period, I mean about 15. This particular girl was named Maurice. (Bet you were expecting Cinderbrella weren’t you) Maurice had an older sister named Holga who was about 18. Maurice had a stepsister who was the same age as her; in fact, she was born on the same day.
This girl was known as Cinderbrella. (Of course that isn’t her real name! Who do you know that names their child Cinderbrella huh?) Her mother died during childbirth and her father married her soon-to-be stepmom. He died when Cinderbrella was 11. His story is that he “tripped” and fell on a random knife lying on the ground, then rolled into a river, was carried out to sea, and his body was eaten by a shark.
Cinderbrella got her name because she was as ugly as a cinderblock and she always carried a red umbrella around with her, even when it wasn’t raining. On this day she was wearing a worn-out green t-shirt and blue jeans with more holes than Swiss cheese. He sisters came in the room she was scrubbing wearing yellow and purple dresses (yellow on Maurice).
“What are you doing wearing jeans. Those aren’t girls clothes,” sneered Holga.
“Yeah, and those haven’t been invented yet. Where did you get those from?” quested Maurice.
“I told you every day since I got them that I had some experience with a time-traveling rock and bought myself a few pairs from 700 years in the future,” Cinderbrella responded coolly. “If you can’t thing of anything original to say, you might as well leave so that you’re not wasting anybodies time.”
The sisters turned pale and left the room quickly and quietly. Heh, that one always gets them to leave, and they’re so dim-witted they haven’t though of a response in the year I’ve been saying that. Cinderbrella returned to her scrubbing when the Great One walked in.
The Great One is the name that Cinderbrella’s step mom makes Cinderbrella call her. She uses it to make herself fell powerful and impress guests. Come to think of it, what guests? They were so poor that the house was ready to collapse. This is likely the reason that Cinderbrella can hardly remember The Great One’s name.
“So, Scrub (The Great One’s name for Cinderbrella), in case your mind can’t remember, today is Friday…”
Rebecca Black comes in, Starts singing Friday. The Great One kicks her in the shin and Black leaves the room pouting.
“Well, that was weird. So, the ball is in two days, and I came inhere to remind the reader that you can’t come.” The Great One continued. “Now, after you finish this sweep the parlor and change into something decent. I’m off to get me dress tailored.” The Great One left the room, her gray dome of hair whooshing behind her.
As Cinderbrella finished scrubbing the dinning room, she had thoughts of the utmost resent at her step mom. Why do you need to get a dress tailored? No matter how fine you’re dress looks you’re still so ugly that no one would ever dance with you. Seriously, an Afro made of gray hair. And who the heck even has an Afro in medieval times?
When she finished, she went to the parlor where her sisters were talking. Naturally, her sisters were taunting her as she swept. “So,” said Holga, “do you think I’d look better in the black dress or the red one?”
“I don’t think it matters,” replied Cinderbrella. “I’m the prettiest thing this household has to offer and an elephant wouldn’t dance with me.” This smart mouth of hers was about to get her into a lot of trouble.
“Are not,” sneered Maurice. “Everyone wants to get a taste of my smoochers.” As she said this, she smiled wide so that Cinderbrella could see her green gums and decaying teeth.
“Yeah, or at least the blind ones.”
“Oh, you little *****, you’ll pay for that last comment,” growled Maurice. “Holga, punch me in the nose.” Silence fell as confusion appeared on her sibling’s faces.
“You want me to do what now?” replied an astounded Holga.
“Just do it, I have a plan.”
“You! You have a plan? Well, I guess…” Cinderbrella silenced herself as her realized what the fiendish plan was. “Oh, man, that is way to clever for you. You must have outside help.”
“No I don’t, just because I can’t count to five and I can’t read doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” say Maurice rolling her eyes. “Now hurry up Holga.”
Holga still didn’t get it, but she proceeded to punch Maurice in the face causing her to splatter blood all over her yellow dress and the floor. Just as luck would have it, The Great One walked in the door into the room to witness the site of her daughter bleeding.

To be continued, hopefully tomorrow