The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.

" . . . and they all lived happily ever after." That's how traditional fairy stories are supposed to end, isn't it. However, since from the start, this particular fairy story's been about as traditional as sausages and custard, one feels compelled to ask, what are the chances? Of course, on rare occasions, we may think we've achieved this 'happy ever after' state, such as when falling in love or unexpectedly coming into money. But it never lasts. Sooner or later, something always happens to take the gloss off things, like your new love running off with all the money you unexpectedly came into. In the real world, such tragic event would probably result in a court case or a ****, or quite possibly, both!. In fairyland however, everything turns into a song. Everything is perpetually singing about everything else, whether it be following the yellow brick road to somewhere over the rainbow or the cold never really bothering them anyway. Snow White's dwarves can't even go off to work without making a song and dance about it.

Right now, Morgan is making a valiant effort to conform to this musical Fairyland tradition by singing about a long and winding road as he slogs ever onwards through the enchanted forest towards Sleeping Beauty's hidden castle. Little does he know that this is about as close to living a happy ever after life as he's ever going to get, since he's already in that most blessèd emotional state, optimistic hopefulness. Truly is it said that there's many a time when it's better to travel in hope than to be disappointed on arrival; this is usually said by people citing Christmas and holidays as prime examples of this. So, how will Morgan's arrival at his destination pan out? We won't have long to wait in order to find out; look, here he comes now . . .

Morgan has now arrived at the Sleeping Beauty's hidden castle. He knows this because:

a, there's this huge castle thing blocking his path, with fast asleep sentries guarding the gate; and

b, there’s also this gigantic illuminated sign telling him he's arrived - and you don't argue with things like that; especially in enchanted forests where gigantic illuminated signs are quite likely to take exception to being contradicted and argue back at you with **** prejudice! The hidden castle proves to be a bit of a disappointment to Morgan though, in that it's not all that well hidden. He'd expected it to be mostly obscured by bracken, brambles and so on and so forth and suchlike, but the constant footfall of guys (plus the occasional butch looking girl) seeking a quick shag with the lovely princess before her handsome prince awakens her with a kiss has long since trampled all such unfriendly flora into the dust. Following further copious signage, Morgan finds his way to Aurora's bedchamber and there encounters the legendary beauty. She's lying, as expected, on a bed, but it has to be said that being in a coma for the best part of one hundred years whilst being used as a sexual plaything by just about everyone has not really been kind to Aurora. Her immaculate clothing is long gone, both her gorgeous shapely body and the rumpled bedding she's lying on are heavily semen stained and Morgan finds her once heavily breasts that are now black and blue from constant mauling, hard to swallow. However, Morgan is determined that none of this will deter him from his primary purpose. This is his moment. This is where he gets to finally break that wretched curse Stella placed him under and take back total control of his life. All he has to do is fuck this **** spunk bucket.

In one movement, Morgan whips the nightgown off over his head and hurls himself onto the sperm slimed body of the sleeping princess. The sound made as he lands on her can probably bessed be described as "splat!" Despite Aurora's gaping vagina being full to overflowing with accumulated semen, Morgan's magnificent erection ploughs into it with a loud squelch. His hands quickly learn that heavily bruised boobs are just as nice to maul as any other kind and he soon has that soft but livid flesh positively billowing under his dextrous malipulations. Okay, so she smells like the inside of a used condom and the sound of shuffling feet behind him suggests that other are already waiting to take a turn with her, (Jack Spratt and Georgie Porgie among them), but nothing deters Morgan from achieving his aim. As the sexual tension in his thrusting loins builds, Morgan can't resist kissing those ruby colured cupid-bow lips below him - and from that moment, everything begins to change. It starts with Aurora's vaginal muscles contracting to cling adoringly around his invading penis, squeezing out old sperm and replacing it with a sweeter wetness of her own making. Her large baby-blue eyes flicker open as she swallows the accumulated cum deposited there by many donors over the years before returning Morgan's kiss with passionate interest. So what if she does taste of stale sperm? On her delectable and articulate tongue currently being **** down his throat, it tastes good and Morgan's tongue readily invades this royal trollop's gob in search of more. He feels her arms and legs wrapping themselves around him, pulling him tight against her as her pelvis begins to move in complimentary rhythm to his ever more ardent thrusts. There's a far away look in Aurora's eyes as she starts to moan in response to the waves of sexual ecstasy now surging through her entire body. Sensing that the girl under him is fast approaching orgasm, Morgan casts off all restraint and fucks her as vigorously as he is able. To the sound of cries, gasps and grunts, they climax together with Morgan's fresh, hot sperm pulsing out of him in eager search of a royal egg to fertilise. Then, as hot passion subsides into a warm, comfortable afterglow, Aurora says the first words she's spoken for nigh on a hundred years; "At last! My prince has cum!"

Prince?

NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO etc. It's all going wrong again for Morgan . . . or has it? After all, it doesn't actually feel wrong. Why?

(Away from the bed, the sound of a male voice is heard to say "oh bugger, guess that's our days of shagging princesses put paid to!" This is followed by the receding sound of retreating feet.)

Meanwhile, the following conversation ensues:

"Aurora, I'm sorry but I'm not actually a prince."

"But you must be because you woke me. QED!"

"But I'm so not a prince. I'm just this literature student from the real world who's hit on this get rich quick scheme of deleting all you old fairytales and nursery rhymes from puplic consciousness only to recreate them under my own name and copyright."

"And have you got rich quick?"

"Like you wouldn't believe!"

"So, er, are there any handsome princes in your recreated stories?"

"O yes, lots."

"And who did you model all these princes on, pray?"

"Well, me; actually."

"?"

"Oh shiiiiiiiii . . ."

And here we may as well leave Morgan midst his on-going shitty expletives while we dot the i's and cross the t's in this final instalment of his very own fairy story. Actually, it hasn't turned out too badly for him, has it! Now free of Stella's curse, he can take the lovely Aurora (via that door between the real and the imagined world that's far too obviously there to ever be believed in) to be his lawful wedded wife and spunk receptacle. He can continue to plagiarise the fairytale genre till the cows come home to roost and surely live happily ever after.

Mind you, as Dr. Hook so succinctly pointed out in one of their most famous songs, "When you're in love with a beautiful woman, it's hard" and I for one don't believe for a moment they were singing about a specific and intimate part of their anatomy in this instance: do you?