Once upon a time, there was a wicked witch who lived in a tall black castle surrounded by a thick forest of thorn trees with sharp, pointy thorns as long as your arm. This witch, whose name was Nan-Cirae, was very ugly. She had snakes for hair, a long crooked nose with warts, pointy brown teeth and mottled skin. And if you don't know what mottled skin looks like, you're lucky because it's the kind of thing that can give a little kid like you nightmares.

    As ugly as the wicked witch Nan-Cirae was, that's how strong her magic was. She could conjure up a spell for just about anything--rain, fire, bugs, serpents, plagues, spam--anything except to make herself beautiful. Like most evil people, and witches in particular, Nan-Cirae was wicked mainly because she had a poor self-image. Instead of looking inside herself to find the problem, she instead decided to take it out on everyone else in the world.

    Then one day, she found an old  book of black witchcraft in a secret chamber of the castle, and it had a spell for beauty. All she had to do was drink the blood of the most beautiful girl in the world, and she would capture all of that beauty.

    Nan-Cirae gazed into her crystal ball and saw that the most beautiful girl in the world lived in the village of  Ives Dairy and her name was Morning Glory. Nan-Cirae’s problem, however, was that she couldn’t leave her enchanted black castle without breaking a clause in her occupational contract and turning into dust.  So she caught a little lizard, and with a thorn she pierced her skin and let a few drops of her blood fall on it, chanting:

        Blood of my blood,
        Pricked with a thorn,
        Change this little lizard ,
        Into a king’s first-born.

    Lo and behold, the lizard turned into a handsome prince named Chevron.

    “Go to the village of Ives Dairy,” the witch commanded. “Find the maiden Morning Glory. Tell her you’re a prince come to carry her off to your castle.” She cackled like the Witch of the West: “Ah-ha-ha-ha. Then you’ll bring her to me.”

    “But how shall I get there?” Prince Chevron asked. “It might not look princely to fly there on a broomstick.”

    The wicked witch Nan-Cirae picked a wart on her chin, then flicked a gnarled finger straight into the air. Another drop of blood would do the trick. She plucked a juicy palmetto bug from its perch on a plate of gingerbread cookie crumbs and turned it into a beautiful white stallion named Skipper.

    “Now go!” cried the witch. “Ride off and don’t return, till you have Morning Glory safely secured in your arms. Ah-ha-ha-ha!”

    So Prince Chevron, who was really a lizard, rode his white horse Skipper, who was really a giant roach, to the village of Ives Dairy, where he found Morning Glory singing a song as she worked in her garden:

    A hundred bottles of beer on the wall,
    a hundred bottles of beer...

    Just kidding. The song went more like this:

    Come little birds,
    to this garden of mine,
    where the star flower blooms,
    and the sun always shines,
    Come little squirrels,
    to this garden so fine,
    where gonzo nuts grow
    on the dragon claw vines,
    Come little kittens,
     to this...

    “Yaaah!!! A snake,” she shrieked, then hacked it to pieces with her gardening hoe.

    Just kidding. Morning Glory was so nice and loving that she would have let even a poisonous snake go on its way. And so Prince Chevron found her singing merrily in the garden, surrounded by feathered and furry little creatures. He told her he’d come to sweep her off her feet, to take her back to his kingdom and make her a queen.

    Well, Morning Glory was quite impressed by the look of this prince, who was tall, strong and handsome. But she wasn’t the type of girl who was about to run off with the first guy who happened to come along claiming to be a prince.

    “If you’re a prince, then you must prove it to me by doing something princely,” she said.

    “Like what?” Prince Chevron asked.

    “Bring me the Gem of Toren,” she said.

    With a chivalrous salute, Prince Chevron spun Skipper around and galloped off into the forest. The Gem of  Toren was equal parts diamond, ruby, emerald and sapphire and reputed to be the most beautiful jewel in the world. The problem was that no one knew where it was or even if it really existed.

    But none of that mattered to Prince Chevron, who had nabbed a small bag of emergency magic powder from the wicked witch’s private stash of magic potions and powders. As soon as he was out of sight, he stopped to sprinkle some on an ordinary rock, which sizzled and popped and turned into a four-colored gem.

    Morning Glory was very impressed with the stone and saw that this prince would be a good provider. But equally important was that he have a good heart.

    “For your second test,” she said, “you must tame a wild beast for me.”

    Off again he rode, into the forest. He found a mean old wolverine who snarled and snapped at him until he threw a pinch of the magic powder in the air. The wolverine sniffed it and snorted, then turned as sweet as high fructose corn syrup.

    Morning Glory was delighted and hugged the wolverine. Good provider, good of heart, she thought of the prince, flicking a wolverine flea from her forearm. What else was there? She knew there had to be something, because in fairy tales, things always run in three.

    “Oh yes,” she remembered with a start. “Kiss me, you fool.”

    Being rich and a good guy isn’t enough if there is no true love the mix. It would have to be a very special heart-fluttering, toe-curling kiss, Morning Glory thought. Prince Chevron swept her into his arms, and as she closed her eyes and puckered up, he paused to wipe the last few grains of emergency magic powder on his lips. Then he planted a kiss like no other before, the magic powder entrancing Morning Glory for once and for all. This prince is for real, she thought with her heart.

    So she let Prince Chevron take her back to his castle, which was really the wicked witch Nan-Cirae’s lair.

    “Close your eyes, dear,” the prince said as they drew near. “I want this to be a big surprise.”

    Morning Glory did as she was told, and when she opened them again, she was looking at the ugliest witch that had ever been, and that’s saying a lot. She turned to her prince, but he just stared back with lifeless eyes.

    “I’ve got you now,” said the witch with a laugh. “And I’ll have your beauty as soon as I drink your blood.”

    Then she turned to the prince and cried, “Now off with her head.”

    Prince Chevron grabbed Morning Glory by her shimmering blond hair and drew his sword. She gazed into his eyes. They were like zombie eyes: dark, cold, empty. This dream guy had sure turned into a project, she thought. Then she focused her thoughts on true love and no more, and she fixed her gaze. The prince’s eyes blinked once, twinkled twice and his lifeless stare suddenly filled with human warmth.

    “Off with her head,” screamed the wicked witch Nan-Cirae. “Cut it off. Now!!!”

    And so Prince Chevron swung his mighty broadsword and lopped off poor Morning Glory’s head...

    Just kidding. At the last second, he spun around and lopped off the head of the wicked witch Nan-Cirae. The head bounced a couple of times and came to rest against a wall.

    “What did you do that for?” the witch’s head screamed. “Remember, without my magic, you’re nothing more than a yellow-bellied skink.”

    “I think not,” the prince said, strolling up to the witch’s head. “Or don’t you remember? Before you turned me into a lizard, I was a handsome prince.”

    The witch thought back. It was true. To get her witch’s license, she’d had to perform various feats of black magic, and one requirement was to turn a handsome prince into something slimy and/or scaly. This was the one, she remembered, just as Prince Chevron gave her head a kick that sent it bouncing down the 3,152 stone steps of the black castle’s tower.

    “Ouch! Ach! Oomp! Uhhh!” The witch’s head cried out on each and every step. “Achch! Ooomph! Oooff! Yow! Ugh! Uhh!” By the time it reached the bottom, there was no life left, and the wicked witch Nan-Cirae’s body upstairs turned into dust and blew away.

    And thus her evil spell lifted from the black castle. It turned a glistening ivory white and the thorns on the thorn trees surrounding it blossomed into a most beautiful flower that the people of the land came to call Morning Glory, after their beloved queen.

    And they all lived happily ever after, except maybe Skipper the white horse, who had never been a horse before the wicked witch Nan-Cirae turned him into one. So when the witch died and all of her spells were automatically canceled, Skipper turned back into a palmetto bug. But at least he was a palmetto bug who enjoyed giving horsy rides to all of the fleas in the kingdom.