Fairy Sales: The Princess and the …

As with all fairy tales, this one happened once upon a time in a land not so far away. There, of course,

was a princess who was quite obviously a mix of hillbilly and ridge-runner descent. Her mother, in a fit of rage or depression, named her Gerpruda, Princess Priscilla Gerpruda XIII to be exact. Anyway, this Princess Gerpruda (the thirteenth) lived in Never-Never Land. (Never-Never turn down a Sales Opportunity and Never-Never think outside the box-land-that is.)

Gerpruda lacked typical royal charm and beauty. At the age of 37, her parents thought an intervention was necessary to find a proper suitor.

A decree was made and a call went throughout the land for a suitable prince to wed the lovely Priscilla Gerpruda. After twelve years and two months, it appeared there was truth to the rumor that all of the potential “Prince-ton” material had been turned into frogs by a neighboring wizard.
In ‘88 the Wizards and Warlocks Frog Turning Competition had been held on the palace lawn, causing a disturbing disappearance of men of reproductive age.

There was also buzz that the enchanting Princess (affectionately known as PG-13) had a penchant for groping reptiles and amphibians. The only cure for her fatal attraction was to kiss the right frog that would turn into her prince charming.

And after countless cold blooded dates, Gerpruda began to wonder if a “happily-ever-after” solution existed. She was still determined to find out.

Frog kissing, as you can imagine, is an art. Our Princess, however, was no artist. After embracing countless frogs, the aggressive paramour realized that every frog kissed does not a prince make. And the warts left from locking lips from multiple frog partners made Godzilla’s back look smooth and refined.

Despondent Gerpruda felt helpless and alone. She debated suicide or a career change. She even thought about becoming a purchasing agent. But after a stern talk with herself and the royal psychiatrist, she opted to try her luck at the local watering hole. Her reputation grew quickly as she began swapping spit with even more frogs, and anything remotely green with a pulse.

It was upon a drunken journey home one evening when Gerpruda came across her Fairy Godmother in the roadway leaning against a rusty Oldsmobile (it really was a long time ago.)

“Gerpruda,” warned her godmother, “Let me give you some advice. Stop wasting your pucker power on every Tom, Dick and Harry frog you come across.”

Fairy Godmother waggled a bony finger under Gerpruda’s nose - avoiding the warts. “You can’t keep doing this,” she scolded. “I don’t care what tradition or fairy stories tell you. You can’t keep throwing yourself at everything that hops. You need strategy.”

Gerpruda wiped frog spit from her moustache. “But Fairy Godmuscher,” she slurred through the bourbon. “How do I know which frogs to kishsh? I’m no expert you know.” She weaved clinging to a leaning lamp post.

“You’re a mess” opined the disgusted FG. She whispered into Gerpruda’s ear, “Perhaps you should think about looking at the articles I’ve been sending you about targeting prospects. Try kissing frogs with a greater interest in becoming a prince?”

Failing in looking indignant or even standing erect, Gerpruda retaliated hotly, “Get loshht you old hag. You jussht wait and schee, FG. I’ll find my prince charming. Now get out of here before I call a cop,” slurred the sloshed pedigree.

After waving her wand and tossing a hand full of magic targeting dust upon the stumbling Princess, FG departed.

Surprisingly, the next morning, Gerpruda was up and about, humming an off-key tune of indescribable agony and appeared to be ardently mapping out some sort of strategy.

Taken from Fairy Godmother's Guide to Targeting a Frog Prince, her results looked something like this:

Attributes of Frogs that might be Prince Charming:
• Upon lilly pads close to the Castle
• Eating flambé’ not flies
• Sporting crowns not caps
• Wholesome complexion: NOT warty
• Fine, not flea bitten

A half hour later, Gerpruda took her station upon a bench near the castle lily pond. After patiently observing for a few minutes, a likely looking candidate in white knee socks, sneakers, Lycra sport shorts and a “toad top crown” hopped on the bench next to her. Never known for being coy, Gerpruda blurted quickly, “Want to be a prince?” as she scooped him up in her hand and planted a wet one on the terrified amphibian’s puss.

“Poof!” burst the frog. But rather than a handsome prince, there squatted a pot-bellied, cigar gnashing itinerant clothesline salesman in a cloud of blue smoke. “No way,” growled Gerpruda kicking him aside with her foot, “I can do better than that.” Gerpruda revisited her list....

Twenty minutes later, she had finally landed the Big One. He

was no George Clooney, but from a distance and in the right light, he may have slightly resembled Matt Damon, with his shades and if he didn’t speak or smile. Bells rang throughout the kingdom. The people rejoiced and wetlands increased by forty percent. Compound W sales tripled and everyone lived happily ever after. But that’s not the end…


The moral of the story?

(1) Never kiss just for the sake of kissing. There are lots of frogs out there. Spend time describing your perfect prospect and you will save yourself lots of effort and a face full of warts.
(2) Count your costs. Don’t settle for a pot bellied, cigar smoking partner in a knee socks when there are royals to be had for the price of a kiss in the right place.
(3) Customers can be cold blooded until you find the one who responds to what you’re offering. The right connection can be a marriage made in the Enchanted Kingdom.

It’s all about spending a little time up front targeting your market. Stop kissing every donkey you see and check out the frogs next door. Listen to your Fairy Godmother or in this case your GF … Godfather Frank.