Once upon a time, there was a welfare queen who provided for her two daughters with food stamps and welfare handouts. The evil welfare mom had Cinderella for the sole purpose of collecting an extra $60 a month, but she was so upset when the Republicans cut welfare spending that she forced Cinderella to run the errands and do all of the housework.
Of course, Cinderella could never learn family values from a single welfare mom, but she still grew up a responsible young adult, learning all about family values and gender roles from "I Love Lucy" and "Donna Reed," on the new family-oriented public TV channel.
When she heard about a grand inaugural ball, she knew that this was her chance to fulfill her dreams of finding a rich, white conservative husband and living in suburban bliss. But when she opened her closet, she found that she had nothing at all to wear!
"I'll never be like June Cleaver!" she cried. "I'll never find my Ward!"
Then suddenly, Cinderella's fairy GOP-father appeared in a cloud of smog, CFCs and carbon monoxide Ÿ and he bore a striking resemblance to Newt Gingrich.
"The Republican party would like to congratulate you on your desire to be a happy homemaker, and I'm here to help. Now remember, you must be home by midnight. You know how crime has skyrocketed since your governor bought a Lotus with that block grant."
Newt revealed a lovely gown and a pair of glass ceilings Ÿ oops, slippers Ÿ a corset, and a chastity belt (just in case). To drive her to the ball in style, he offered a green '69 Ford Galaxie with a faulty transmission and no gas in the tank.
"And a fancy coach for the pretty little lady!" he proclaimed. "Republicans misers? We spend money when it counts!"
Once at the ball, Cinderella waited patiently, demurely, not speaking until spoken to, until Mr. Right appeared.
All of a sudden, a privileged, white, 20-something businessman and part-time lobbyist for the NRA approached her. "Hello, my name's Ward. Your name wouldn't be June, by any chance?"
"No, my name's Cinderella."
"Close enough."
They waltzed and line-danced all night, and did the electric slide to the new hit single, "Grandma Got Run Over By Newt Gingrich." He wooed her with tales of danger and intrigue, like the time his father shot a certain famous politician from a grassy knoll.
Cinderella was so smitten by his wealth and his staunch conservative ethics that she lost track of the time, and when Mr. Right's cellular phone rang at midnight, she knew she was in deep smit.
"Oh, dear! I've missed my curfew!" She fled out of the ballroom faster than a conservative fleeing a gay rights rally. Alas, she was not fast enough, and when she reached the parking lot, her car had disappeared, leaving behind only a puddle of transmission fluid.
Then her corset, chastity belt, and gown vanished, and all that she was left with was one glass ceiling to keep her company.
She tried to contact the white, wealthy businessman, but he refused to take her calls. Instead, Cinderella decided to follow in her evil welfare mother's footsteps and ran off with Bob, the Hispanic valet, who had quit his job to collect unemployment.
Since her lifelong dream of being the cheering section for a conservative businessman was shattered, Cinderella decided to try the next best thing Ÿ going to college and earning a degree in molecular biology.
She trooped down to her local financial aid office and requested forms for applying for student loans.
The woman behind the desk replied, "A student loan? Like, come again? What planet are you from?"
Cinderella left, downtrodden and dejected, until another brilliant idea dawned upon her .
Seven years later
"Honey, have you seen my bong?"
"No, dear, but I've got to find six Ÿ no, wait, seven Ÿ pairs of shoes and get the kids to daycare!"
Suddenly, Newt appeared in his polluted cloud. "Didn't I warn you about that feminist folly? Marry white, marry rich, marry Republican! Repeat after me Ÿ oh, and by the way, you owe $1,500 for the car, $240 for the dress, $565 for the glass slippers."
The fairy tale moral? Politically correct fairy tales are bad, but politically conservative fairy tales are even worse. Be sensible. Vote liberal.
Jessie Fillerup is a music education junior whose column normally appears Mondays.