Cattenborg part II

May 21, 2010 at 10:26 am (Fairy Tales, Humor, Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , )

One day, when the Prince and she were sitting in the garden, Brigit turned her head towards the forest and saw her mother appear, running along with a saucepan, and her father following with the ladle. She couldn’t help laughing loudly when she saw their continued folly. When the Prince asked her what was so funny, she didn’t know how to answer, so she said as she was taught: “I just thought how different it was at home in my beautiful castle Cattenborg.” 

“You are always talking of your beautiful castle Cattenborg,” pouted the Prince, “I think it is about time we went there and got married!” 

Brigit was worried, because, as far as she knew, there was no castle Cattenborg, and if there was, it certainly wasn’t hers. She told Alphonse her worries, because really, they were sort of his fault. 

“Don’t worry,” responded the cat, “just put your trust in me, and you will see it bring you happiness. Go to the Prince and tell him to get everything ready for a long journey. We can leave tomorrow if he likes.” 

Brigit was skeptical of this unknown plan, for she could see no way out of it, but Alphonse had never led her wrong, so she told the Prince to make ready for a journey to her castle. Early the next morning they set off in a long procession. The King and Queen sat in the state BMW convertible with the Prince and his betrothed; and after them followed the fancy cars of all the rest of the royal court. It was a splendid sight to see. 

When night fell, they procession found a five-star hotel near the road, for they were prepared for a long journey of several days. Now it happens that this hotel was in the territory of a terrible troll. Every night he went out robbing and stealing and he hid his huge heaps of loot in his castle. The castle was beautiful, made of silver with a roof of gold and windows made of diamonds. The troll that lived in the castle was an ordinary sort of troll, with a long tail, big nose, and ears that stuck right out of his head. He wasn’t very old, for a troll that is, only five hundred years — a mere youth when compared to his relatives — and he hoped to live to a thousand. He had no fear that he wouldn’t reach his goal, for the only thing he had to fear was the sun. Like most inherently evil things, trolls can’t stand broad daylight, and turn to dust in the sunshine. This was a simple thing to avoid, he believed, for all he had to do was return home before sunrise. 

Clever Alphonse knew all this about the troll, and when everyone else was asleep in the camp, he ran as fast as he could to the troll’s castle. It was a long distance to the castle, and it was nearing morning when he arrived. He jumped into the extra-large key-hole of the heavy oak door and changed shape into a bun (because all cats can shape change), filling up every bit of the wide hole. 

By now it was early morning, and the sky had begun to turn red in anticipation of dawn. Heavy troll steps were heard approaching the castle, and the ground shook and trembled. The troll was a bit later than usual this morning, so he had the key to the front door already in his hand. He tried to stick the key in the hole, but it was blocked by Alphonse, the cat-turned-bun. The troll flew into a rage. 

“Open, Open!” he cried and knocked at the door. 

“Oh, please, just wait a little while, till I’ve told you my story,” said Alphonse the bun in a quiet voice. 

“At first they kneaded me, 

So that they could knead me to death.” 

“Open! Open!” cried the troll again. 

“You must just wait a little, little while, till I’ve told you my story. 

At first they kneaded me, 

So that they could knead me to death. 

And then they floured me, 

So that they could flour me to death — ” 

“Open! Open!” cried the troll, knocking furiously at the door and yanking on the handle. 

“Don’t interrupt me; it’s terribly rude.  Haven’t I said that I must first tell you my story? 

At first they kneaded me, 

So that they could knead me to death. 

And then they floured me, 

So that they could flour me to death. 

And then they rolled me out, 

So that they could roll me to death.” 

Now the troll flew into such a rage that he knocked with his fists and kicked with his heavy combat boots, and for a moment it seemed as if the whole castle was about to fall down. But the bun went on calmly as before: 

“Can’t you hear? I must first tell you my story. 

At first they kneaded me, 

So that they could knead me to death. 

And then they floured me, 

So that they could flour me to death. 

And then they rolled me out, 

So that they could roll me to death. 

And then they baked me, 

So that they could bake me to death –” 

By now the troll had become really afraid, and he begged for his life in quite a humble way. “Oh dear, dear! Open! Please let me in!” 

But the bun remained where it was, and said suddenly: “Turn around and see that hot chick on a motorcycle coming this way.” 

The troll stupidly turned around, and looked directly into the rising sun. He fell over, turned into stone, and then exploded into a pile of dust. Nothing was left of the troll but the dust, and that was soon vacuumed up by a servant. 

Alphonse turned back into a cat, and jumped down from the key-hole. He went into the castle and told the poor enslaved servants that they were free of the ugly troll, and that soon their new mistress, who was kind and fair and gave huge Christmas bonuses, the beautiful Princess of Cattenborg, was about to arrive with her fiancé. He told them to prepare for a magnificent wedding. All the former slaves were so excited about their freedom and the upcoming party, that they threw their hats in the air and celebrated. 

The Queen, who sat in the first car, told the chauffeur to stop. “What is all the fuss about?” she asked one of the celebrants. 

“We are only greeting our returning employer, the beautiful Princess of Cattenborg!” The dancing man responded. 

Everyone was very surprised at the extravagance for such a simple occasion (the return of their boss), but none was as surprised as Brigit, who had never seen this castle or those people in her life. The wedding was that night, and the prince and princess lived happily ever after with their faithful cat, Alphonse. 

Want to read the real thing? Head over to your local library, and check out Fairy Tales from Sweden. It is a fabulous out of print book with all sorts of cute fairytales.

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1 Comment

  1. Brenda said,

    Charming story.

    I want a cat like this!!!!

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