or Life Among the Refuse
Prince Fredrick’s castle was surrounded by the finest of gardens . . . finer than any other near or far. Opulent waves of flowering bushes, roses, tulips, daffodils, succulent begonias, as far as the eye could see. The wealth of flowers and all of the well manicured foliage were lovingly cared for by the Prince’s gardener and the gardener’s daughter, Zelda. In the eyes of the gardener and in the eyes of the young Prince, there was no flower more precious, no flower more perfect than, the lovely Zelda.
Prince Fredrick’s heart was filled with love for this fair maiden, Zelda. His love was so pure as to be almost visible, his ardor so immense for this rarest of beauties, our worshipful Prince was rendered almost helpless in her presence.
He would leave his kingdom behind and give all of his wealth to the poor and live happily as a commoner if only the beautiful Zelda would have him as her husband. But Zelda, known all about the land for her transcendent loveliness, was cursed, or blessed as she herself would describe her divergence from the norm. She was afflicted with a fetish for unusual fragrance and, spurning the handsome Prince Fredrick, she became betrothed to, and eventually married, the local refuse collector, Olaf, a man possessed of many and varied odors.
The fairest of the fair, the lovely young Zelda, went happily to live with Olaf in a spacious but stench ridden home just inside the gates of the town refuse station. And Prince Fredrick, overcome with grief and unwilling to accept any maiden less beautiful than Zelda, became weak and disenchanted and took to playing games of chance with roving knaves and scalawags.
Quickly, within a few months, he had lost all his riches.
The Prince continued to gamble and his debts mounted. Finally, the Sheriff arrived at the gates with an Order of Confiscation. Sadly, he informed the Prince that his castle and the magnificent gardens were no longer his possessions and would be sold to pay off his gambling debts.
Without his castle and all the land surrounding it, Fredrick gave up all claims to nobility and went in search of menial labor. Our Fredrick, once in the loftiest of stations and highly regarded, was now looked upon in disdain, a penalty resulting from his wayward gambling. He was willing to accept any form of honest work no matter how degrading, but, alas, was turned away by all with one exception, the unsuspecting Olaf!
The former prince became Olaf’s underling and spent most of his waking hours in objectionable circumstances sorting waste . . . soon taking on a scent that Zelda found irresistible. The damsel, still beautiful but now with the demeanor of a tavern wench and the vocabulary of a fishwife, was suddenly drawn to the fallen prince, Fredrick, because of his magnificent stench, a result of his daily adventures among the refuse.
While Fredrick was becoming wonderfully odorous and irresistible to Olaf’s young wife, he, Olaf was rising to executive status among the elite of those occupationally related to refuse. Olaf began to take frequent baths. With each one his aroma became less offensive and Zelda’s ardor more diminished. All was not well in the home of Zelda and her recently cleansed husband, Olaf.
The fallen prince, Fredrick, could no longer afford games of chance and had to spend most of each day among the refuse to earn the shelter and scraps provided by the elevated and pristine Captain of Refuse, Olaf.
Zelda, with her husband attending to his executive duties among refuse collectors for days at a time, began to invite Fredrick to her home. His duties, as stated by the refuse collectors wife, were simply to enhance foul smells. His experience among the most objectionable remnants of the human condition allowed him to create the most fetid of aromas, pleasing the bounteous Zelda. And let us also be aware of the splendiferous stench bearing presence of Fredrick himself . . . a stench not wasted upon the matron of the house! Each time he passed by . . . each time he stood close to her…Zelda inhaled through her nose… deeply. With the intake of each breath Zelda became weaker and finally, after inhaling one last time, she swooned. Fredrick, somewhat unsteady because of her nearness, managed to catch her as she was descending to the floor, holding her fast.
All was lost now . . . each responded to suppressed desire…Zelda drawing more and more of Fredrick’s scent in and giving of herself freely. And with each breath her eagerness more apparent, Fredrick, all of his love for her now released…stroked her tenderly but passionately, allowing Zelda to embrace the quintessence of the most unique aroma ever known. Yes, both were lost but Zelda even more so than Fredrick.
The walls had fallen and soon, overcome with the need to be one with the aromatic Fredrick as often as possible, Zelda chose to leave the hearth and home of the now sweet smelling but no longer attractive, Olaf. She delivered herself, body and soul, to the stench ridden hovel in the middle of the odious refuse . . . the hovel having become home to the once proud Prince.
Fredrick was happy at last with the not so fair maiden, Zelda.
To be a rich, handsome and landed Prince works out for some. But for Fredrick, being a stench bearing garbage man is a better fit!