Moving Finger - Issue 3 - Brunel University

NEW QUEEN SPINS A YARN
LEAH EXPOSED IN BLACKMAIL FRAUD SCANDAL. SARAH
WOLSTENCROFT REPORTS:
In the early hours of this morning our new Queen Leah was exposed as a fraud.
Answering a challenge set by the late King Alfred for a woman with a ‘gift’ to marry his
son, Leah's lying father, Mickey "the Axe" Collyfield, claimed his daughter could spin
gold from thread. A palace insider informed us of the truth. Leah has connections with a
gangster known as ‘Rumpelstiltskin’. Stiltskin allegedly spun the gold himself, making
the then-woodcutter’s penniless daughter promise him a reward when he returned. The
King, fooled by the collaboration, allowed his son to marry Leah.
However, her deception was exposed when the villain returned for his pay-off, the
newborn Prince John. Palace negotiators came to a deal with the blackmailers. If they had
not guessed his name by the time he returned on Friday of last week, he would have taken
the only heir to the throne. Private detectives on a manhunt for the kidnapper and any
associates stumbled across him at his hideout, bragging to friends of his deal. It is not yet
known what his plans for the baby were.
Fortunately, on the villain's return, the baby, under round-the-clock police surveillance,
was saved. We wait on conclusive evidence of Stiltskin's whereabouts. Rumours inside
the palace claim he merely disappeared after a malicious act of vandalism, but there is no
evidence as yet. D.C. Paul Goldilocks, speaking exclusively to the Sun, says, ‘Although
he is not known to be dangerous, Her Majesty is living proof of his power, so we are
advising the public to be wary of suspicious salesmen and the like’. More details soon.
TURN TO PAGE 12: LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD'S NAN GOES
TOPLESS
Sarah Wolstencroft
SNOW WHITE
The mirror was the judge of beauty, the divider of sour from sweet, bad from good,
ugly from fair. It was kept in an old mansion near a large motorway where a young
woman lived on her own. It was believed she was a witch due to her unattractive
appearance. On this particular day she sat, restless, in her chair, the flickering of the T.V
gently changing the colouring of her face from grey to blue to green, her long hair
slithering down to her waist like discoloured worms sown together in a sticky web. On
the end of her nose was a mole that resembled a sour grape and her skin was like cracked
leather. Her long yellow nails tapped upon a glass table next to the sofa where a vase of
red, pink, and yellow flowers exhaled sweet air. She loved flowers. They comforted her
when she was alone, and their aroma reminded her of her childhood. She stood up,
exposing her face to the mirror. She prayed that this time it would be able to see her
honesty, loyalty and intelligence, but it seemed that the mirror was incapable of judging
the depth of beauty. It absorbed only what it reflected, saw less than the eyes could.
‘Mirror, mirror, hung up high,
Who is the fairest and tell me why?’
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