The theme music for this farce of a competition grates upon my elderly ears, and yet I smile for the audience and pretend I am having fun.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" yells Jock McRavish, my court jester. "Welcome back to Who Wants to Marry a Princess…"

The gathered crowd of peasantry, minor lords and ladies holler their excitement.

"With your host… Mr. Merry Majesty Himself…? Iiiiiiiiits…"

"OLD KING COLE!!!" the crowd yells back, right on cue.

I certainly feel old, but I'm far from merry, pimping my poor daughter like a diamond. I continue to smile and wave, though, as the wicked witch, Meg MacGotten is always watching.

"Thank you, Jock, and welcome everyone," I say behind a forced smile. "If this is your first time tuning in…"

The crowd boos and hisses, as if this show is the only thing worth watching. I guess, when you're peasantry, maybe it is.

"Then let me fill you in on what you've missed…" I continue, trying to ignore the noise.

Wolf whistles accompany my precious daughter's name as I wave vaguely toward the witch's tower and try not to vomit as I identify Primrose as the prize. The crowd splits when I mention the four contestants. Around fifty percent back Prince Charming, while a handful are keen on the tree-guy, and the remainder are backing the werewolf. Nobody wants the woodcutter's daughter to win. I'm her sole fan.

The spotlight falls on each of them in turn as Jock gives a spiel on them all. So far, Charming has remained his charming self, but I know he has a violent streak. The half-tree worries me, and the werewolf… Can you imagine the hair or leaves that would end up all over the castle?

We take a break, and I call for my usual. The pie maker spruiks his wares, but I need music and nicotine.

"Sorry, Your Majesty," says Jock. "No pipe or fiddlers."

"Why?!" I cry.

"Smoking was banned years ago, and the acceptance of tree-people as things with rights means fiddles and therefore fiddlers are rare…" Jock explains.

I take my bowl. It's empty. Budget cuts.

Breaktime over, I introduce the task for this episode. Each contestant must take up a bundle of clothes, sort them, scrub them, and then hang them out to dry. It brings a chuckle to my lips when Charming tries to convince the crowd to do this for him. He may be my niece's son, but he gets no special treatment here.

"Walk the plank!" I cry, the crowd joining me.

Leaf struggles with the task, too, as does Lupine; claws are just as useless as twigs when it comes to laundry. Esmerelda nails the challenge with ease, and the stunned crowd, a moment later, goes wild. So too does my daughter, thrilled to finally be free. I know I've been had when Meg introduces our champ as her daughter.

I guess I know who the real winner is, and just how badly I got played.

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