Born into a royal family of nervous people, Prince Ima Stressedout, was considered the golden child of the family. On that Tuesday morning of his birth, Ima’s mother, the queen, was the first person in well over a century to have a vision of calm and order. Peacefulness was considered a long-lost luxury in the nerve-racking kingdom of Havoc, so she called together her council and proclaimed baby Stressedout as the savior and future king of all new generations.

The jittery townspeople rejoiced and celebrated their new prince for forty days and thirty-one nights. The old street signs were renamed to reflect the new-found peacefulness and all the retail shops along Main Street restocked to sell incense, yoga mats, hammocks, candles and inspirational books. Restaurants switched over to meditative music and offered new salt-free, fat-free, sugar-free, preservative-free menus. Soon, society would be healthy and relaxed.

Twenty years passed without a single person feeling so much as a sigh. The queen and her princely son were praised and worshipped. Tuesday had become the new Sunday and giant statues of Ima dotted the landscape like dandelions in a field.  Life in the kingdom was delightfully harmonious and all the townsfolk rejoiced. . . all except, Ima Stressedout, that is.

You see, the young prince had been groomed by his mother and required to follow her strict rules of tranquility and passiveness. She paraded him around town as a handsome example of mannerly worthiness and had promised Havoc’s society that her son was the Guru of all things peaceful. But Ima had a serious secret . . . he was a pervert.

He would lie awake at night and dream of a kingdom built around sexual bondage. He visualized naked bodies strapped to white picket fences as he punished them with nipple clamps and whips. He could imagine the moans of ecstasy and pain filling the quiet halls of all the land. He longed to drink alcohol and frolic dangerously among prostitutes and thieves. He wanted to lie, cheat, steal and mock the goodie-two-shoes as he urinated on their feet. At heart, he was a disgusting man-whore with a great hunger for all things raunchy and reprehensible.

Eventually, his monotonous world presented an unsuspecting hope. Out of nowhere, a horse named Runoutatown galloped onto the palace grounds. He was a majestic thoroughbred with an impassioned gleam in his eye. The queen deemed the sudden appearance of Runoutatown a miracle, sent from above as reward for her son’s royal perfection. Ima considered the horse his transportation to freedom and knew it would only be a matter of time before Runoutatown would carry him far away from the misery of their blissful kingdom. But first, he had to learn how to ride a horse.

At the start, sitting on Runoutatown’s back was difficult and painful because Ima was born with unusually large genitals, so large in fact, his pants required special tailoring to house and support them. Eventually, he discovered the most comfortable riding outfit was to wear no clothes at all and soon his naked equestrian training flourished. Horse and rider galloped through the forest and fields for three months straight, until his skill as a horseman surpassed that of the greatest horseback rider in all the kingdom. The young prince had proudly arrived at the threshold of his escape.

Then a horrible tragedy struck. While riding his champion through a particularly dangerous part of the forest, a low-hanging tree branch knocked Ima violently off of the thoroughbred‘s back. From the jolt, the horse reared backwards and trampled across Stressedout’s exposed head. The young prince lay naked and unconscious between Runoutatown’s powerful hooves. Fearing the worst, Runoutatown fled the forest and abandoned his royal friend. Ima’s aspirations of great perversion and immorality now dangled helplessly between life and death.

Nearby, a group of townspeople witnessed the accident. They rushed the prince to the hospital and after three worrisome days, he awoke to cries of joy from the queen and her attendants who had remained at his beside. Ima’s physical injuries would eventually heal and the kingdom would once again be saved from the horrible wrath of anxiety and unrest.

The only trouble was, the young prince had lost his memories and with them his deviant desires. . . and as the story goes, his chance for a future as the greatest pervert to have ever lived, was gone forever. His kingdom would peacefully continue on, but Ima Stressedout would never again dream of a life not worth living.

The moral of this story?  Don’t ride a horse through the woods.

—————————————————————————————by SG 2012