The Story of the Bald Frog and the Wig

Once upon a time there was a handsome mid-40s man named Prince Coco of the Birdcages. Throughout the lands Prince Coco was loved, idolised even. Some would say he was the head of a cult. A cult about colts. And bolts.

One day, Prince Coco was journeying through the countryside that his father owned, watching as the poor workers waddled through radioactive mud and not giving a flying fck about it. As Prince Coco sauntered by on his trusty steed, he noticed a young woman, bending down to pick out the radishes that grew in her plot. Her long luxurious locks of hair fell over her shoulder as she moved, causing the Prince’s heart to race.

‘Damn!’ He said to himself and his steed. Mostly himself, but a little to the steed. ‘That gurl is fiiine.’

It was at that moment the mysterious beauty stood up and turned around, giving the prince a cheeky little wink. As it turns out, she was not a she, and was in fact a he. The man wolf whistled and called after the Prince; ‘see something you like, honey?’

Prince Coco tried to push his steed into a gallop, but the horse didn’t move. There was a flash of magenta light, followed by a bang. Once the mist had gone back to where it’d come from, only one figure stood in the fields; the steed. Where had Coco gone? And the Sheman, where was s/he? Surprise! The Prince was actually still on his steed; you just couldn’t see him because he was so small. As small as a frog. Because he was a frog. A bald frog.

Prince Coco let out a shriek and jumped down from the horse to look at himself in a puddle. He grabbed at his hairless head, muttering to himself about shampoos and coconut oil.

He started hopping back to the castle as quickly as his little edible legs could take him, stopping only to smell the roses. After a harrowing journey that took the poor thing half an hour, Prince Coco arrived at the gates and after a lengthy explanation, was allowed into the castle and quickly rushed up to his rooms.

As he lay in a bowl of water, munching on crispy fried flies, there was a knock at the door.

‘Come in.’ He croaked, not at all concerned as to who it might be.

Through the door stepped/pranced a large woman with a beard, swathered in lengths of sparkly fabric in all colours. ‘Your majesty, your cowardly father sent me to help with your problem.’ She said, making a provocative gesture. What that gesture was, we’ll never know.

‘Oh goodie.’ Said the Prince, picking up his foot to show her the large, puss oozing boil. ‘I’ve had this for a few weeks now. I’ve been meaning to see someone about it.’

‘No, no, no!’ She stamped her foot with frustration, sending up a cloud of white… dust. ‘I’m here to help with the lack of hair upon thy head.’

‘Oh! Don’t remind me of that. I was just forgetting.’

‘For a king to have no hair upon thy head, thy not good. Thy will only know of thy predicament from a prophecy from thy talking lime green badger that shoots laser beams from its eyes. That would be awesome. But because thy has none lime green talking badger that shots laser beams from its eyes, I’m here to help thy. Thy thy, thy thy-thy. Thy.’ The woman looked down at Prince Coco with eyes the colour of a newly born unicorn’s mane, after it has just taken its first steps into the flower dotted Meadow of Rainbows, and a kind of lust. Though it was mostly just unicorn legs and pity. ‘I have fashioned thy a miniature wig.’ She knelt down in front of Prince Coco’s bowl and reached into her beard, pulling out the perfect toupee. The wig was a beautiful thing, as red as the Rolling Stones logo and as wonderful as a drag queen on opening night.

‘For me? Gee! Danke, random beard lady, danke indeed.’ He reached out for the toupee and fitted it on his head, brushing down the sides. ‘It looks natural, doesn’t it? I knew it would.’

 The woman straightened up the toupee and sprinkled glitter over the hairline. ‘Whenever there is a person confused about their new haircut, I’ll be there. Whenever someone needs advice on what conditioner to get, I’ll be there. Wherever a bald frog is worrying about his hair loss, I’ll be by its side, offering magical toupees.’ She stood up; her creaking bones sounding like primary school kids trying to play Green Sleeves on their recorders. With one hand on her wide, multiple belt clad hip, and the other stroking that magnificent beard of hers, she stared out at the kingdom, a convenient ray of sun lighting her up like a Christmas tree. ‘For my name if Magical HairyLady, and I fight for those who go through bad hair days.’ In a cloud of rainbow coloured glitter and hairless moles, Magical HairyLady disappeared.

Unfortunately, Prince Coco hadn’t been listening to a word of that fcking fantastic speech, because he’d been staring at his reflection between two nobly knees. ‘I am a handsome bugger.’

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This was supposed to be for the 'Random Question' thing on my profile, but it was a bit too big. So I posted it here instead, not wanting it to go to waste [after spending hours of sweat and blood over it].