Bob awoke from his sleep, a sharp pain coming from his nose. He tried to reach his hand up, but found he could not move it. He opened his eyes and saw an overly dressed, matronly woman standing on his chest. The fact she was only three inches tall explained why her standing on his chest had not woken him up. The stick with the star ending in sharp points in her hand probably explained why his nose hurt. But the most disconcerting thing was the dozen or so other tiny, matronly woman standing on his beside table.
“What the hell?!?”
The small woman smacked Bob in the face with the pointy star.
“Tch! Watch your language Robert! I will have none of that.”
“You tell him, Florence!”, said one of the bedside table women.
“Who … what are you?”, Bob pleaded.
“Close. Let’s try being a little more polite, shall we?”
Florence raised the star capped stick, poised to swat Bob again. Bob winced involuntarily.
“Sorry! Please don’t hit me with that again! Who are you, ma’am?”
Florence lowered the star capped stick.
“Much better. I, Robert, am your fairy godmother.”
“My what? Sorry! My what, ma’am?”
“Your fairy godmother. You may call me G-Ma Flo. I am the one who looked out for you as a child, using my fairy magic to ensure you came to no harm.”
“Why are you hitting me with your wand then, G-Ma Flo? It hurts like hel … it hurts a lot. And why am I tied down to my bed?!”
“Well, Robert, you as so many little children, have not live up to our expectations. You were so full of potential when you were a child. And now … well, now I am just disappointed with you, Robert. So disappointed I gave up my wand for something with a little more … walloping power.”
“Preach it, Flo!”, called out another of the bedside women.
“Disappointed? Why? I mean, I grew up, I went to school, have a good job, a good life …”
Florence swatted his nose with her stick.
“OWWW!”
“Oh quit your crying, Robert. My sisters and I have taken it upon ourselves to knock some sense into you and others like you. It is something you need, Robert.”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t need to have my nose … OWWW!”
Florence pulled back on her stick and readied to swat Bob’s nose again.
“Don’t you sass me, Robert! Sass me again and I will inflict all the diaper rash on you that I whisked away with my fairy magic when you were an infant!”
“Sorry, G-Ma Flo! I won’t sass you.”
“Good. Now where was I?”
“You were getting to our demands!”, piped up a third woman from the bedside table.
“Ah yes. Now, Robert, if you do not want the ills you avoided growing up due to my protection to visit themselves upon you all at once, you will need to do the following. First, we will need $100,000 …”
“What do you need money fo … OWWW!!!”
“Do not interrupt you fairy godmother when she is speaking, Robert! The fairy godmother business does not have good retirement benefits, hence the need for the money. Second, you will need to accept that the world as you know it is not the way the world works. Case in point, before this morning, you had no idea fairy godmothers existed. Suffice to say that is merely the tip of the iceberg. Third, you will need to find yourself a wife, Robert, or a husband, we really don’t care which. And then have children. Or adopt children. Which ever way you prefer to go. And, this it the important part, Robert, be sure you teach your children that life is more than what they assume it is. Do you have all that, Robert?”
“Y … yes, G-Ma Flo.”