Page 162 of Naughty Nelle

I stomp back to my chamber and hurl the box at my mirror. I miss. It hits a wall. My mouth twitches, in horror, as its bloody contents splatter across it.

I have no choice. I’ve got to take care of Snow White myself.

Easier said than done. Over the past two weeks, I’ve ventured twice to the cottage where Snow White has taken refuge with a bunch of lowlife dwarfs. Seven of them—just like my smart-ass looking glass said.

The first time, I disguised myself as an old corset peddler and asphyxiated the wench with laces I was selling. So I thought until my magic mirror told me she was still alive and well. The second, in a different but equally repugnant peasant disguise, I talked her into trying out a comb I poisoned. After having the pleasure of watching her crumple to the floor once again, I had the misfortune of hearing my magic mirror report that I’d failed yet another time. Damn my mirror. And damn those dwarfs. After each attempt, they somehow must have rescued the tart before she took her final breath.

This time, I’m done wasting my time. Those runts can say adieu to their precious princess because I’ve come up with a foolproof plan. I’m wearing my newest and, I must say, best disguise. A butt-ugly hag get-up I picked up for nothing at a thrift shop. To make sure Snow White doesn’t recognize me, I’ve dyed my long hair gray, blackened out a front tooth, and added a honker of a nose made out of putty.

I stare at my reflection in my magic mirror. I don’t even recognize myself. The wart on my nose is such a nice touch. My disguise is brilliant! Best of all, this is the last time I’ll ever have to sacrifice my beauty to have Snow White out of my life.

Dressed to kill, I wind my way down the rickety stairs that lead to my favorite playroom. My dungeon. Time to check on my evil potion. It’s been brewing for hours.

Perfect! The mixture in the cauldron has come to a boil. The cackling bubbles are like music to my ears. I give it a stir with a long femur bone—probably the remains of one of my late husband’s prisoners.

“It’s as easy as pie,” said the instructions. I wouldn’t know since I’ve never made one. All I can say is that this is the most fun I’ve ever had.

Following the recipe to a tee, I throw in the final lethal ingredient—a dash of dragonstone extract. The potion sizzles, and snakes of smoke curl around me. I smile proudly. The mistress of disguise can chalk up another talent.

Now, for the tricky part. Carefully, I dip half of a big red apple that I handpicked from my orchard into the gurgling mixture. I count to three and strategically place it on top of a basket filled with other ripe apples.

“Satisfaction guaranteed or I’ll refund your money one hundred percent,” promised the sorcerer who sold me the potion. “One bite and Snow White will be asleep forever.” Frightening simplicity! And there’s nothing those damn dwarfs can do.

I can practically make the trek to the Seven Dwarfs’ cottage blindfolded. That’s not to say I enjoy it. In fact, I hate it. First, I have to row a boat across my moat to get to land and endure an hour of sunshine on my flawless, vanilla skin. Then I have to trudge through a dark forest with its monstrous trees and wild beasts and risk my life. Or worse, scratch my face. Let’s put it this way: I’m not exactly what you’d call the outdoorsy type. And I despise the sun.

Thank goodness, this trip will be my last. Near the edge of the forest, their so-cute-I-could-puke cottage comes into view. Holding the basket of apples in one hand, I crouch down behind a tree and impatiently wait for the dwarfs to leave. After twenty or so time-wasting minutes, the bearded mini-men file out, carrying their work tools. Snow White plants a kiss on each of them. It’ll be their last.

The tiniest one of the bunch is the last to exit. I count them again to play it safe. Seven for sure. In a perfect line, they march toward the mountains that lie behind their house. In no time, they disappear. Hi ho. Hi ho. It’s showtime!

I spring to my feet, my target in sight, when a loud hissing sound stops me in my tracks. My eyes shift left and right, then up. My heart jumps. Dangling from a branch right above me is a monstrous green and yellow snake. With its jaws wide open, it coils toward me. I’m paralyzed with fear. I don’t know what I dread more—its venom or the fang marks it will leave behind. I hold my breath as its black forked tongue flicks my cheek. That does it. I grab an apple and hurl it at the serpent. Without looking back, I run.

My relief is short-lived. A terrifying thought flashes into my head. Oh no! What if it was the poison apple I threw? I glance down at my basket and relax. It’s still there. Better yet, I’m still here. Nothing is going to screw up my perfect plan. Nothing!

As I near the cottage, I spy an open window. Switching into hag mode, I hobble up to it and pop my head inside. Snow White’s in the kitchen, singing (ugh!) as she scrubs a long wooden table. Always the perfect little homemaker. Not for long. Miss Tidy Whitey’s cleaning days will soon be over.

“Hello, dearie,” I call out in my finest hag voice. “I’ve got some delicious apples for sale.”

Startled, Snow White whirls around. Her face, drop-dead gorgeous as ever, nauseates me.

“I’m not allowed to talk to strangers anymore,” she says in her sickening sweet voice.

“But I’m just a poor old woman trying to make ends meet. And these apples will make a delicious apple pie.” I hold up my special apple. “You must try one.”

“What if it’s poisonous?”

She’s smartened up. No worries. I’ll show her how good it tastes. With a loud crunch, I bite into the apple. “See. I’m good as new. Now, you try it.”

Hesitantly, Snow White strolls up to the window and takes the apple. She beholds the shiny fruit in her hand. Why is she stalling? Just take a bite. Come on. Do it already. My heart pounds in anticipation.

At last, she raises the apple toward her face. It’s like a slow motion dream. Her lips part. Her mouth opens. Finally, her teeth sink into the other side of my juicy red apple. Crunch. Oh, what a lovely sound! Her big brown eyes roll back into her head, and she collapses to the stone floor in a crumpled heap. I smile wickedly.

Eternal sleep! At last!

Victory surges inside me. I’m tingling with excitement. I can’t wait to get back to my castle to ask my magic mirror one simple little question…

And with Snow White out of the picture, this time for good, there can only be one simple little answer…

The sound of heavy footsteps interrupts my reverie. The front door bursts open. My heart skips a beat. It’s those damn dwarfs! What are they doing back so early?

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