Rindecella

The last four years that I spent in America I worked at a children's theme park while on vacation for the summer. This theme park is called Storyland. Storyland's motto is "the place where fantasy lives." It's really not a bad place to work, as long as you can handle actually working. It's been one of my favorite jobs. That's how I managed to stay there for four years. Anyway, last year, summer of 2004, I had another nice summer. Towards the end of the summer there is always an employee party to which we may take our family members (that's usualy their parents because most of the workers are under the age of 21). Well, at last years party there was a nice program put together. For part of the program I wonderful man, named Jack, read to us a story. This story was hysterical and had almost everybody laughing uncontrolably (I say almost everybody because there are a lot of exchange workers that come from Europe. They didn't really laugh because...well, you'll understand in a few minutes). I recently saw a video that my father made of Jack telling the story. The people were laughing so hard that I couldn't hear everything that Jack was saying. So, I wrote Jack and begged him for the story. Jack wrote back. And so, with thanks to Jack, I now present to you all the almost well known story of

"Rindecella".

Once upon a time, in a corin funtry,
there lived a geautiful burl named Rindecella.

Rindecella was a gritty little pearl
who lived in a wottage in the coods
with her two sugly isters
and her sticked wetmother.

Now, her sticked wetmother made Rindecella
do all the wurty dirk around the house,
like pining the shots and shans.
Wasn't that a shirty dame?

Well, one day the ping issued a kroclomation:
He said, “My son the pranson hince
wants all the geligible earls to come
to the ping's kalace for a bancy fess drall.”

Of course, the sugly isters
and sticked wetmother
had drancy fesses to wear to this bancy fall.

But Rindecella had only her rirty dags,
and nothing to wear to such a pool calace
to meet the ping and krince.

On the night of the bancy fall,
along came Rindecella's Gairy Fodmother,
who wouched her with her tand,
and turned the rirty dags into a drancy fess.

She also turned some hice into morses
and a cumpkin into a poach,
and told Rindecella, “Go to the ping's kalace
and dance with the pranson hince,
but be sure to be home by the moke of stridnight.”

So Rindecella went to the bancy fall
and danced all night with the pransome hince.
And they lell in fove.

But at the moke of stridnight,
she ran down the stalace peps.
And just as she beached the rottom,
she slopped her dripper!

So the next day, the pransome hince
went all over this corin funtry
asking all the gritty pearls
to sly on the tripper.

When he came to Rindecella's house,
he tried it on her sticked wetmother,
and it fidn't dit.
He tried it on her sugly isters, and it fidn't dit.

Then he tried it on Rindecella and it fid dit!
So they mot garried,
and hived lappily ever after.

Now the storal of the mory is this:
If you go to a bancy fall
and want to have a pransome hince
lall in fove with you,
don't forget to slop your dripper!

THE END

Now if you can, imagine that English is your second language. That's the reason behind the Europeans not laughing. If somebody did that to me in Dutch I'd smack them (Note to Benjamin and Marjon...that's not a suggestion nor an invitation. ;)