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Ask Evil Princess Sara |
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 I've been getting an alarming number of letters concerning problems to do with...you know. The Sweet Mystery of Life. The many splendor'd thing. The crazy little thing called...it. A battlefield, if you will. Makes the world go 'round. The four letter word. You know. Don't make me say it. Luh. Luhhhhh. Hhhh. Hhhhve. You know. That. Now, why anyone would take their most tender and delicate difficulties to a woman who once quite literally ripped someone's still-beating heart from his body, I don't know, but these are the letters I get, so this is the column I have to write. The things I suffer for you filthy underlings, unfit as you are even to lick the ruined dust of your cities and nations from the soles of my dainty size 6 Boots of Armageddon. I just hope you're happy.
For those of you who are just now reading the column, you disgust and insult me with your failure to worship me in the manner I deserve, but here are the ground rules anyway:
- I am indeed the most razor sharp intellect ever to bless the ground I walk on with the honor of bearing my footsteps, but sadly, I haven't actually been initiated into the mysteries of the Sacred Order of Ann Landers. They've got some weird uniform that involves pearls and a twinset, and I'm definitely more of a leather and light chainmail person. Anyway, although I will bestow upon you the most demoniacally ingenious advice conceivable, you should nonetheless bear in mind that I'm only an (unbelievably talented) amateur.
- Responsibility for acting upon the advice I give you, for better or worse, lies with you. Don't come crying to me if you somehow incorrectly interpret my fantastically clever advice and manage to turn your life into something that looks like a bad high school production of Dante's Inferno, because it'll make me have to try to hide my schoolgirl giggles of delight. And if you make me blow my "fairy tale helpless princess" cover, I'll be forced to do something very unpleasant to you in the dungeons. Probably involving hydrochloric acid, fine needles, and your face. And neither of us wants that, especially me, because the smell is so hard to get out of my hair afterwards.
- I reserve the right to edit your sub-literate scribblings for clarity, length, and unspeakable atrocities against King Steve's English.
- My words of uncannily oracular wisdom may be abrasive and brutal, but then, you didn't write to the dominatrix of the dumbfounded for sweet-talkin'
Now that I've caught up the slow children at the back of the class, we can begin our dissection of the squishy, organ-stuffed creature that is...that thing whose name I don't want to say. You know. That thing. Which begins with "L" and rhymes with "shove". That. Let's get this over with quickly.
"Dear Evil Princess Sara,
I'll make this quick. I'm a US Marine who travels the world a lot and I'm in love with a girl back home. I get to visit once every 6 or 7 months. Should I give of on my dreams of being with her and look for someone closer,
perhaps a female Marine who I may travel with? Or should I stick it out for the next year and a half until my contract is up? Keep in mind that it's already been 3 1/2 years that I've been harboring these feelings, while still staying friends with her. What desperate act of evil should I commit to win her over long enough to ensure that she won't run off and get married while I'm away defending our great country?
Sincerely,
Little Green Plastic Soldier Guy"
You know, LGPSG, three and a half years is an awfully long time to wait to tell a girl that you have les underpants ardents for her. Even Fighter manages to express himself with those haiku he sends me. He doesn't express himself very well, of course, what with all those Ram Form Maneuvers over the years and a -500 INT stat to begin with, but however ham-fistedly and meat-headedly, he expresses himself nonetheless. Take a page from his poorly-spelled, smudgy-paged book: you don't need to catch this girl's eye with a masterfully planned display of elegantly orchestrated misanthropy (although it couldn't hurt, if she's anything like me), you need to use that hole in your face for something other than shouting "SIR YES SIR" and eating MREs and tell her how you feel.
Don't sit on it for another three and a half years, LGPSG: who knows what could happen between now and then? Some dashing supervillain with a dangerous wardrobe and glutes you could bounce a 5 gil coin off of might sweep her off her feet with a masterpiece of the Villainous Arts in that time, and where will you be? Stationed someplace with a name that sounds like a lung disorder and finding a matte black wedding invitation to his Fortress of Really Not Good in June for the Union of their Infernal Hell-Wuv in your mail. You don't want that, LGPSG. They'll have "Wind Beneath My Wings" for their first dance. Don't let Bette Midler and a tux you'll never wear again as long as you live be a part of your future.
If things with her don't end as happily as you might like, though, take some time off from serious dating to get over it. Then, when you're ready for something real, you can start looking around for some cute young thing in BDUs to travel the world with. Soldierly love worked for the Spartans, why not the US Marines?
Best of luck, LGPSG.
"Dear Evil Princess Sara,
I love my fiance and want to marry him, but he insists that we have children in the near future. I hate kids. What should I do?
-- Future Lydia Sherman"
Well, my potential Queen Poisoner, I personally plan on becoming invincibly immortal so I can avoid just this very issue (why trust a hard-earned evil empire to some ungrateful little monster who just happens to look like you?), but it might not be as easy for you. I totally understand your position, though. If there's anything more disgusting than halflings, it's children. True, children grow up, but who can wait that long? And you can't even get a decent profit out of selling them to the pirates for slave labor. Leaving them exposed on a hillside for the werewolves is an efficient means of disposal, but it seems so wasteful somehow. Unless you want to breed your own homegrown army with ensured loyalty, they're useless, and even that's better done with a Li'l Mendel Copy 'n Clone Fun Lab from CorneriaMart. Plus you get a cool pair of toy mad scientist goggles out of it.
Try to convince your boyfriend that his nurturing needs can be better served by adoptively parenting a hyper-intelligent legion of cute, cuddly domesticated rats. They got your pitter-patter of little feet right here, baby, and is anything more sweet and innocent than an infant Rattus norvegicus squeaking its first "Ma-ma", "Da-da", or "want more cedar chips for crib"? And how soon they grow up...into your own adoring little spy network of ears and eyes that can go unseen anywhere you care to send them. Intelligent. Devoted. Cunning. Possibly able to be bribed with a handful of stale cheese puffs, maybe, but there are ways around that. Ask your boyfriend which he'd rather have to brag about: Baby's First Solid Stool, or Baby's First Intelligence Recon Mission Report? The choice is clear.
"Dear Evil Princess Sara,
I'm having this problem with my ex-girlfriend. I was a sucker for her for the entire six months we went out. She lied to me constantly, feigned injuries for attention, and manipulated me in practically every form known to man. All my friends told me she was trouble, but I wouldn't listen. Well, after 6 months of going out with her, and after I dropped my entire savings on her because she said she'd marry me, she leaves me for another guy and puts down everything about me. Now it's been 2 1/2 months since we broke up and I'm trying to remain friends with her. She, however, is still being a complete witch to me and all she ever does is talk about how much she 'loves' her new guy to MY friends and how she even loved him while
she was with me.
Even after all that fecal matter, I still can't get over her. I've tried dating quite a few different girls, all of whom are both hotter and nicer than my ex, but every time I try to be with someone, memories of HER jump into my mind. I still love her! WHHHHHYYYYY?
Any suggestions?
- Donny Don't"
Sure. I suggest that you invest in a pair of nipple clamps and a rubber flogger, my doomed double D, because you're obviously a bone-deep, whip-me-spank-me-beat-me, please-sir-may-I-have-another masochist. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Some of my finest potential minion recruits are gibbering pain sluts. But it's the only thing that can explain why you still have feelings for a person who's treated you like...well...like I treat Garland. And I had to really get creative to come up with some of that stuff. "Carving the word 'agony' over every inch of your flesh with a rusty knife", hee hee. Oh, good times. I hope I wrote that one down somewhere.
...Anyway. As I see it, Donny, you have two options in front of you, like a donkey faced with choosing either an apple or a carrot, or like Garland deciding whether to tape the Golden Girls marathon or Old Yeller (he breaks down like a newborn with diaper rash every time). The first option is to sit down and ask yourself why you still feel any kind of affection for someone who treats you so badly, why you were going to marry someone you'd only been with for six and a half months, why you would marry someone that screamingly mental in the first place (hello, Donny: sexy, sexy evil is one thing, but obvious psychosis is another), why you didn't listen to your friends' advice, why you put up with her abusive treatment, what makes you feel as though you deserve to be treated that way, and ouch: why you still love someone who can't make it more obvious that she doesn't love you back. Because Donny, she doesn't. This isn't her playing hard-to-get. This isn't testing you to see if you really love her. This is a sociopathic freak trying to see how much mileage she can get out of hurting you, and that's Evil Princess Sara's job, thank you very much.
Stop dating for a little while, while you're at it. If the girls you're dating now are so nice and so hot, don't you think they deserve to be with someone who really wants them, and not someone who's fantasizing the whole time about that one time his ex-girlfriend almost kind of sort of was a little nice to him? If Evil Princess Sara was dating a potential puppet...er, I mean, "life partner in hideous, hideous crime"...and she realized that he was thinking more about his ex-girlfriend than about her own malevolent, girlish charms, she'd be very upset. Like, upset with a chainsaw. You dig?
See, the thing is, Donny, it's guys like you who start believing that pathetic "I'm a nice guy, but those mean old girls are sooo evil to me, boo hoo hoo, don't you want to dry my widdle tears and take me home" fallacy that eventually turns into barely-suppressed misogyny. Donny, on behalf of all male-inclined women everywhere, listen to your old archfiend in heels Evil Princess Sara: it's not the women who are the problem, it's you. Stop being a doormat and people will stop walking on you. Not all women are manipulative freak bitches with nonconsensual control fantasies, but if you act like a victim (and Donny, you might as well have put a "kick me, it makes me feel tingly" sign on your forehead in that relationship), people who need victims will be drawn to you. This doesn't mean you have to act like an asshole to get the kind of nice girl who'll treat you right, which is the other half of that troglodyte-stupid fallacy that makes your friend EPS so very, very ill. It means you have to learn how to be a nice person but still stick up for yourself enough that people don't take advantage of your niceness.
Or you can go with the second option, and embrace your inner man-slave leanings like they're goin' out of style! Learn to love the taste of latex as you give your mistress' knee-high stiletto heels a real spitshine. Savor the taste of the ball gag in your mouth and the sting of the riding crop cruelly smacking your innocent booty. When Mistress says bend over, you ask how far. The crack of the whip will wake you every morning and the rattle of your collar and chokechain will sing you to sleep every night. Learn it, live it, love it! Who knows, you might even find someone who looks almost as good in leather and plate armor as I do.
"Dear Sara,
My cute little kitten keeps curling up to sleep on my stuffed animals. What should I do?
Signed,
Evil Only in the Sense that, if You Bent Good Far Enough Backwards, It Might Possibly Become Slightly Kind of A Little Bit Evil, if You Squint and Look at it Sideways"
Merciful Bahamut. Does this look like "Ask White Mage: the Fluffiest, Sweetest Little Ray of Advice Column Sunshine Ever" to you? Give the cat your stuffed animals. It's obviously better at being an evil, rapacious plunderer of goods and property than you are.
Keep practicing, maybe one day you'll be Mildly Naughty,
Evil Princess Sara
Do you have a question for Evil Princess Sara? Drop her a line at
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