April 29, 2009

It’s a wonder what lack of sleep and caffeine can do to a person. For instance, this morning, I got up at 5. Not happily though. It was because I finally decided that Fairy Godmother is not going to come visit me and waves her magic wand, and “Voila!” my assignments are all done! Yea, sadly enough I have to do them. Plus, I never really like Fairy Godmother and I think the feeling is returned.

So I was making breakfast. Oatmeal with raisins and coffee.

Oh, and when I say “I was making breakfast” that means I’m heating up water in my electric water heater.

I was never a real fan of oatmeal. I never had oatmeal for breakfast when I’m living back home.  So why that tasteless thing? Well, I have family histories of atherosclerosis and diabetes. Life is about choices, right? And I’ve chosen diabetes.

So I poured the oatmeal into a bowl, the coffee into a cup, and reached for the raisins and pour a couple of them. Then in comes the hot water… And as I was stirring my cup of coffee, my spoon kept on stumbling into solid. It was weird, since I was making instant coffee, and it always dissolves right away. I peered into the cup and found that I had poured raisins into my cup instead of into the bowl.

With that, I gave up and went back to sleep…


Fairytales 10

April 10, 2009

Nate asks Madeleine what she is thinking, but she makes no answer.

The two of them walk in silence; the wizard has taken his leave, there’s an urgent matter about an evil ring and a hobbit.

“If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness,” says the wizard, “I have to save the Middle Earth.”

Madeleine thanked the wizard, and then head to the Farther Away kingdom, back to the castle.

Somewhere between the Meadows of Joy and the Valley of Contentment, Nate asks Madeleine, “After we find the prince, what’s next?”

“What do you mean, what’s next?”

“The two of you get married and live happily ever after?”

“…hmmm… What do you think should be next, Nate?”

“I don’t know, princess. I guess you’re to be wed and rule the kingdoms?” Nate says with a shrug, “After all, you’re both royalties,” he says, eyeing Madeleine intently.

“Oh I see…,” Madeleine says vaguely, closing her mouth in a pout.

She keeps silent all the way to the castle, responding to Nate’s attempt at a conversation with monosyllables.

“Okay, did I do something wrong?” says an exasperated Nate, breaking into a halt right in front of Madeleine.

“No,” says Madeleine, turning left to avoid Nate, and walks past him.

“You haven’t said anything more than “hmpfh”, “yes”, and “no”. Between you and me, a horse would be more responsive. Granted, a horse can’t speak, but–“

“Oh, so I am worse than a horse now!?”

“That’s not what I meant, I–“

“Well, here we are,” Madeleine points to the tower of the castle, not a mile from where they are standing, “We’ll be arriving any minute, so you won’t have to endure my presence anymore.”


Madeleine walks determinedly towards the castle. When she arrives, a ruckus is raised. The kings and queens come out to see her; Francis and Felicity are disappointed that Madeleine come home alone. Well, with Nate, but he is only a servant to them. Felicity puts her head on Francis’ shoulder and weeps.

“You didn’t find my son?” asks a limp Francis. The last fortnight has drained the strength out of him.

“Actually, I think I know where he is,” says Madeleine, looking around.

“Where??” asks a frantic Felicity. “Here?”

“Ah, there,” says Madeleine, picking up the dog that is licking the end of Felicity’s skirt, and then giving him a kiss on the mouth.

And what do you know, it turns into Frederick.

“A dog?” asks Felicity, “and all the while we thought it was a frog?”

You thought it was a frog,” says Nate, “milady,” he adds, after seeing all the virtual daggers people are throwing him, “Her Highness was bitten by a dog, of her great aunt, Clarisse, when she was ten.”

“Rommel…,” says Madeleine, trance-like, and shivers.

“Well, no need to dwell on that,” says a joyful Francis. “I believe a wedding is in order.”

So a wedding is prepared for. Flowers, music, lots and lots of food and even more wine.

The day soon comes. Madeleine is dressed in a white, flowing dress with a very long train. The orchestra starts to play and thus the ceremony begins.

“Dearly Beloved,” the priest starts, “We are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. It is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly. Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined. Should any person have any objections and can show just cause why they may not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

“I object,” says a voice from far back.

All heads turned to see who it is that have a death wish. It is Nate.

“Thank God someone said something,” says Marcus, “I object, too.”

“Marcus??” Marianne asks, flabbergasted.

“Well, that kid is horribly namby-pamby, don’t you think?”

Marianne hesitates, “Well, when you put it like that…”

“This is just outrageous!” exclaims Francis, while Felicity, having fainted, is being fanned by a flock of fussy ladies-in-waiting.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do,” persuades Marianne, “if they should decide to call the wedding off. Right?”

“W-w-well,” Francis stutters, “I-I suppose”. He had a crush on Marianne when they were young. Seems the feeling hasn’t wear off.

“I hate mushy words, princess, and I know you do too,” says Nate, “I do love you. The way you smile. Without pretense, no mask, simply you. Looking at your eyes, I see them as windows without curtains, because they are open and clear, as if to say, ‘You may look into my soul for I have nothing to hide’. Sometimes–, well, most of the time,” Nate chuckles, “I see the little girl in you. When you cry, of feel lonely, or afraid, I want to be there by your side, and put my arms around you. I don’t quite know why, but I love you.”

Madeleine looks at Nate, then shoves the bouquet of flower she is holding into Frederick’s hands.

“Wait,” Frederick calls, “Do you think you are going to be able to live happily ever after with him? Princesses live happily ever after with princes, Madeleine, not with…what is he anyway?”

“Happily ever after is so overrated,” replies Madeleine, “But pray do not worry that little brain of yours, Fred… We’ll get to happily ever after eventually.”

The End.

Fairytales 09

April 5, 2009

Madeleine and the grey-haired wizard walk back to the dwarf’s house, since the wizard says he’s too old to travel with the Babylon candle.

“I tried the candle, and I didn’t care much for it. I’d rather walk.”

Madeleine tries to point out that they have a little less than three days to find Frederick before he is turned into something hideous for the rest of his life, and it will all be her fault. At least people will blame everything at her. But the wizard is firm on walking. So they walk, and when they get to the house, there is a really old woman standing on the threshold, holding a red apple. She seems to be offering the apple to a woman, whose skin is white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair black as ebony.

They watch as the witch bites a part of the apple, then the snowy young woman takes the apple, and bites the other side of it, and she falls to the ground. Seeing this, the wizard runs to the two woman, and quickly pins the witch to a tree nearby, and seems to tie her to it using a magical chain.

“How dare you!” cries the witch. “Release me at once!”

Madeleine walks to the woman lying on the threshold, and the dwarfs, who seem to be coming home from the mine, begin running towards the woman.

“Princess Snow White, Princess Snow White…,” they all cry simultaneously.

Madeleine takes a look at so-called Snow White, then puts her index and middle fingers on Snow White’s neck.

“She’s still alive,” says Madeleine, lifting the pale woman up to a sitting position. Madeleine then sits behind Snow White, rests Snow White’s head on her shoulder, then puts both her hands around Snow White’s waist and starts thrusting Snow White’s abdomen.

After a couple of failed attempts, finally Snow White gives a choke, and a lump of apple jumps out of her mouth.

The dwarfs sigh in relief, “She’s just choked,” says one of them.

Snow White blinks her eyes, and then turns her head around and sees Madeleine. “B-but…,” she stammers as she tries to find the right words, “But you’re not a prince.”

Madeleine rolls her eyes and stands up, causing the other princess to fall on the ground. The seven dwarfs quickly  hover around her to pull her up.

The witch, still tied to the tree, eyes Madeleine suspiciously. “You are the princess from the Farther Away Kingdom, not that white-faced idiot?”

“Where is Nathaniel?”

“I am honestly disappointed when that stupid girl wears my corset and faints. Just like that, too easy. Of course, those stupid dwarfs manage to save her. Then she goes and fall for the comb trick. And now the poison apple. But she always manages to get out alive, I give her that.”

“Tell me where Nate is, Harriet.”

“Why would I,” says the old witch, “Wait, I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who’s Harriet?”

“Do as she says, or…else,” says the grey-haired wizard, suddenly looking very menacing.

Harriet gulps, and then says, “All right, all right. But let me go first, so I can turn him back to human.”

The wizard points his staff to the tree, and Harriet is suddenly and magically turned loose.

Harriet then walks several feet into the Forest, and Madeleine and the wizard follow her. She comes to a tree where a white horse was tied, and when they come closer, the horse neighs loudly.

“Shut up, you bloody fool,” says Harriet, who then waves her hands over the animal, and it suddenly and magically turns into Nathaniel.

“There, I’ve kept my promise,” says Harriet.

“Wait, what about the prince?” asks Nate.

“You have to play fair, princess, and find the prince and kiss him,” Harriet laughs haughtily, then disappears.

“I can bring her back here if you wish, Your Highness,” says the wizard.

“No, I think I know where to find him,” says Madeleine.

(to be continued)

Fairytales 08

April 1, 2009

It was a cottage with unbelievably low ceilings.

Madeleine goes up the front door, which is a simple wooden door, and knocks. “Who lives here?”

Several trials and no answer later, she pushes the door, and find that it is not latched.

“What tiny plates! And spoons! There must be seven of them, the table’s laid for seven people.” Madeleine goes upstairs, and upstairs is a bedroom with seven neat little beds.

When they are downstairs again, Bambi nudges Madeleine, and causes her to look at him with a look that could kill. “What?” Madeleine asks curtly.

“Well, Your Highness, maybe you can cook something for the people who live here. You know,” Bambi adds hesitantly as Madeleine is once more looking like she’s ready to turn Bambi into pot roast.

Madeleine narrows her eyes, thinking, “It will certainly help if they are in a good mood, if I am to ask for their help.” So Madeleine starts to cook.

Or, at least, she tries to.

By the time she’s done, there’s seven bowls of hot steaming soup, whose aromas will make any hungry soul lose his appetite. And the kitchen is in such mess, the house such a wreckage one could think that there was an earthquake recently.

Tired, Madeleine goes upstairs and sleeps at one of the bed. Bambi takes the opportunity to excuse himself. He has a mother to find, plus he doesn’t really like this snobby brat of a princess. (Poor Bambi… It’s going to be a long and vain search…)

Madeleine later wakes up to a poking in her feet. It is dusk already.

“Oh, good gracious… Another day passed and I have not made progress at all,” she says to herself, while still lying on the bed.

She feels another poke on her feet, and that does it. “What is it!? she yells, and sits up on the bed to see who it is that dares to poke her. “It better be a cat and has seven lives,” she mutters, “cause-“.

Madeleine stops. Staring at her are seven little midgets, wearing multicolor robes, all standing on the end of the bed she’s occupying, cluttered together. The midgets standing behind are pushing and nudging the ones in front, trying to get a look of Madeleine.

“Midgets,” says Madeleine. “You are midgets.”

“Dwarfs,” says a rather angry-looking dwarf in red robes, “We are dwarfs, not midgets!” says he rather curtly.

“Okay, grumpy, dwarfs then,” says Madeleine.

“How do you know his name?” asks one of the other dwarfs very shyly.

“I do not know his name,” snaps Madeleine.

“But you just called him Grumpy,” says another sleepy-looking dwarf.

“I do not know his name, now, I need help,” says Madeleine who then tells them the story of the curse, the witch, and the prince who turns into heaven-knows-what.

“Tell you what,” says a bespectacled dwarf, “Tomorrow we’ll skip mining, and we’ll go to see a friend of ours. He is a wizard, so he might help.”

“Okay, I’ll come with you,” says Madeleine.

“No, you better not,” says the dwarf, “you may not be accustomed to the road, princess.”

“Fine, then,” Madeleine feels herself curiously losing interest in Frederick. She is anxious to get Nate, however, before the witch turns him into stew or barbecue.

The dwarfs then eat the meal that Madeleine prepared. All of their faces curiously turn a shade bluer or greener, and Grumpy is complaining out loud that the food is not fit for dog, when a kick on his shin stops the words coming from his mouth. Then they all go to bed, Madeleine sleeping on Grumpy’s bed and Grumpy grumpily sleep on the floor.

The morning after that, the dwarfs can’t get out of their beds.

“I think it’s food poisoning…,” says the bespectacled dwarf, who then adds, stammering, after seeing the look on Madeleine’s face, “b-b-but I may be wrong, princess, I have been wrong many a time before.”

So Madeleine sets out to the wizard’s place, after receiving directions from the dwarfs, and bringing with her a map drawn by the dwarfs.

She walks and walks and walks, and she is lost. But she doesn’t like to admit she can’t read a map, so she just keep on walking for three days, before she gives up and completely loses all her nerve and then breaks down. Then she sees a rabbit, white and curiously wearing a waistcoat and carrying a watch, running in such a hurry and muttering, “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!”

Madeleine quickly seizes the poor rabbit by its ears, and lifts it to examine it closely.

“Curious,” remarks Madeleine, “I’ve seen a talking deer, dwarfs, but a waistcoat-wearing rabbit? Hmmm…”

“Release me, release me,” the rabbit struggles hopelessly, “Please, I’ll be too late and the Queen will surely have my head. Please, lovely lady, I’m begging here.”

“Well, if you can show me to the wizard’s, I’ll release you.”

“And if I can’t?”

“I’m mighty hungry, rabbit, and you are looking rather like a stew now.”

The rabbit gulps, and then nods, “Very well, wicked wench,” the rabbit says, pulling something black from the pockets of his coat, “Here.”

It was a black candle.

“What am I going to do with this?” asks a furious Madeleine.

” ‘Tis a Babylon candle, wench, it will take you anywhere you want.”

Madeleine winces; she has never heard of a Babylon candle. “How do I know you are not lying?”

The rabbit sighs, “You don’t. Fine, chop me up and cook me. The Queen’s going to have me beheaded anyway. I’m telling you the truth, though, lit the candle, but think only of the place you want to go to, or the people you want to go to.”

“Fine,” Madeleine finally says, releasing her grip on the rabbit’s ears. The poor furry thing fall with a loud thud, and is quickly on its feet again, running full speed. He then jumps to a hole, and disappears.

Madeleine takes a deep breath, lits the candle, thinking of the witch, and all of the sudden the air is sucking her, and she is caught up in a whirling vortex of wind. And before she can say, “Bloody rabbit,” she is standing in front of a man, old with long grey beard, grey hair, and wearing a grey robe. A staff is leaning on the empty chair next to the one he is sitting on.

“Well, this surely is a surprise. Who are you, child?” asks the old man.

“I am Princess Madeleine Vittoria Artemis Lucille Charlemagne, daughter of King Marcus Charlemagne of the Farther Away Kingdom. Are you the wizard the dwarfs told me of? I need your help.”

“I don’t know what dwarfs talked about me. Her Highness can simply call me Gandalf. Gladly at your service, princess.”

(to be continued)

Fairytales 07

March 28, 2009

“You do not have one?” asks Nate, following Madeleine into the depths of the Forest.

“Nope,” says she.

So they walk, walk, and walk. They walk and stumble upon trees, leaves, more trees, a carcass of a deer with an arrow through its head, more trees, a family of rabbits that run scared upon seeing the two human, and, believe it or not, more trees. Until…

“Do you see what I see, Nate?” Nate turns his head around to face Madeleine, then looks to the direction Madeleine’s finger is pointing to.

It is a house. Of gingerbread. And candies. With sugars for windows. Madeleine’s stomach lets out a mutinous growl. The last thing that has come close to her mouth has been a live frog.

“Great, food. I’m starving,” says Madeleine, walking briskly past Nate into the sugary heaven of a house.

“Hold on, princess,” says Nate, while looking at the house in caution, “Do you really think it’s safe?”

“Don’t be silly, Nate. What could be unsafe about it, it has lollipops sticking on the roof, for goodness’ sake. Do you think there’s a wicked witch in there waiting to cook us in an oven and eat us?”

“Well…,” says a rather doubtful Nate, “I don’t know, wouldn’t it be like trespassing or something?”

But all of Nate’s feeble excuses are not heeded by a ravenous Madeleine. She has already gone ahead and broken one of the many the window casements on one pull and is eating it on spot.

“I don’t think that is wise, prin-,” but Nate does not finish his sentence.

Madeleine turns her head, and Nate is gone. “…N-nate?”

“You need to leave immediately, princess,” says a shy voice from the bushes behind.

Madeleine turns her head around, and another round, but still she sees no one.

“Who are you? Where are you? Show yourself,” Madeleine says rather curtly.

“Please, don’t be mad, Your Highness,” says that voice, and the owner of the voice comes forward from the thick Forest. It is a fawn.

“Oh great, just what I need… A talking deer.”

“But, Your Highness, I was just born last winter, so I’m still a fawn.”

“Never mind that, what did you say earlier?”

“I said you should leave.”

“And why?”

“Your friend has fallen into the witch’s trap,” says the fawn, lifting his left forelimb to point to a big hole on the ground.

Madeleine goes to the hole in a flash, and kneels beside it, “Nate?” she calls, “NATE! ARE YOU THERE? ANSWER ME, FOOL!”

The fawn shakes his head sadly, “Your friend has been captured by the wicked witch. You really should leave, Your Highness. She is coming here any moment. By the way,” the fawn asks as if remembering something, “you didn’t happen to meet a doe on your way here? I’m looking for mother. She tells me to run earlier, which is weird now, is it not, and now I’m looking for her and I cannot find her anywhere.”

“What am I to do? Where shall I go now?” the distraughted Madeleine does not hear a word the fawn said. “Nate, what am I going to do?” she whispers.

“I know one place where they take in princesses who are being targeted by assasins,” says the fawn, who does not know what the word assasin means let alone the sentence he just said.

“Well then, let’s go there, fawn, show the way.”

“Yes, right away, Your Highness. Mother will not be mad, I suppose, if I come home late, I’m helping a princess am I not,” says the fawn. “My name is Bambi, Your Highness, at your service.”

(to be continued)

Fairytales 06

March 27, 2009

“But princess,” Nate protests, “What of the fate of the prince?”

“Do you seriously think that I can save Frederick by kissing all those frogs!?”

Nate is silenced.

“I have a better idea. We’ll find Helga and asks her help. Now, are you with me?”

So off they go, to Helga’s Hut.

“I cannot help you,” Helga says once they enter her hut.

“I haven’t ask you anything, witch,” says Madeleine.

“Your Highness, I beg your pardon,” Helga bows, “you wish me to lift the curse casted on Prince Frederick. But I do not have the powers.”

“Why not? They say you’re the best.”

“Well, I am,” says Helga, ever the modestl girl, “but the curse can only be lifted by the person who casts it, milady.”

“I have to find Harriet?”

“That, or you can find the prince and kiss him. Or it, whatever form the prince is in.” says Helga, “It is a wiser choice between the two, Your Highness.”

“So you, too, suggests that I kiss every frog that has ever lived!?” a hysterical Madeleine asks.

“I sense that it is not a frog we are looking for,” says the witch enigmatically.

“Then what?”

“I do not know. Think, princess. What do you hate the most?”

After a long silence, Madeleine answers, “I really have no idea, witch. See, I pretty much execute anybody that crosses me, and also creatures that I hate, so you see I’m really at lost here.”

“Then I’m afraid I cannot help you, princess.”

“Can’t you read it in your cards or crystal ball or whatever?”

“Only you know your own heart, Your Highness.”

“Not even if I threaten to have you guillotined?”

“Not even if you threaten to burn me at stake.”

“Oh well, we haven’t gotten to that time where people burn witches at stakes, Helga.”

“But yes, there is one thing I can do for you,” she says, looking conspiratively at Nate.

“And that will be?”

“I can lift the spells I make when I bound you as infants.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are in love with the prince, yes?”

“Errr…well, I cannot think of any other reasons that would make me willing to kiss even one single frog. And you have no idea how many of them I’ve kissed.”

“And that may be my spell. I can lift it if you want me to.”

“Why would I want you to lift it?”

“So I take it that you will be satisfied to think you are in love for the rest of your life, although all the while it is only the works of magic?”

“Is that what it is?”

“We don’t know… And we won’t know unless you-“

“Fine, fine,” snaps Madeleine. “Please do. But I still have to figure out where Frederick is. For all we know there’s a huge possibility he’s being digested by a crocodile.”

Madeleine storms out of the hut. Nate follows shortly, after saying a silent ‘Thank you’ to Helga, who smiles ever so satisfied.

Meanwhile, Madeleine is walking into the Forest. Nate runs to catch up with her, and asks, “Where to, princess?”

“I don’t know, to find things I hate and kiss them?”

“We have seven days left, I reckon?”

“Eight, Nate.”

“I believe it’s seven, princess. And what is your plan?”

“I believe I don’t have one.” And Madeleine keeps on walking, further into the Forest.

(to be continued)

Fairytales 05

March 26, 2009

“It will seem, milady,” says the friar, “you have been left at the altar, although we are missing an altar to make that expression work.”

“Shut your mouth, Tucker.”

“It is Tuck, milady, and if Your Highness will allow me, I’d like to share my thoughts on this mat-“

The friar’s words are cut short by Madeleine. “You will keep your thoughts in your hear, because that is the reason you have that head. If you don’t put that head of yours to good use, I’m relieving the head from its duty. Am I making myself clear, Tucker?”

Friar Tuck gulps and nods ferociously.

Suddenly they hear sounds of someone walking in the Forest towards them. Madeleine’s face lit up. “Frederick?”

But it is Nate. “Princess, here you are. We are worried sick of you. Your Queen-mother is lying in her bed-chamber, moaning and crying all day and night, and your father has ordered every soul in the kingdom to look for you.

Hot tears come streaming down Madeleine’s cheeks. She is simply confused. Earlier she feels this irrational feeling supposedly called love, and it has came all too suddenly, just out of the blue. People do say that love is blind, blablabla… But whatever love is, it has certainly taken her off guard. And now the person who makes her feel that is gone, and she doesn’t know if she is ever going to meet him again.

Madeleine goes home to the palace with Nate, after giving the friar some gold coins. Her parents are outraged at her for running away and she is now locked up in her rooms, the windows now barred to make sure she doesn’t run away again. Her wedding has been put off without a new time frame, and she spents her days shedding tears on her pillows.

Three days after Madeleine escape, the king and queen of the Far, Far Away Kingdom come to the Farther Away Kingdom, bringing with them soldiers, and the queen’s ladies-in-waiting, and even a poodle. The royal couple looks angry, desperate, and sad at the same time.

Not a good combination.

“I demand to see your daughter,” says King Francis, while Queen Felicity quietly sobs, dabbing her eyes with a silky handkerchief.

“What is this madness?” asks King Marcus.

“She is responsible for my son’s missing.”

“Why, this is nonsense. My daughter is in her room as of now, and she has been in that room since the night she came back from-” Marcus stops. More wrinkles start to appear on his already wrinkled forehead. He clears his throat and calls Nate, “Tell the princess that I expect to see her immediately.”

Madeleine comes, her face sullen and her eyes red and swollen from crying.

“Where is my son!?” Francis roars.

“Well, I will also like to know where he is,” Madeleine snaps.

“Calm down, and let’s talk about this like civilized people,” says Marcus, “We’re royalties, for crying out loud.”

So Francis tells them that Frederick has gone missing for three days. “He was in his room, and the next thing we know, he wasn’t. The day this happens, Frederick tells me that he wishes to marry that wench,” Francis points his finger to Madeleine.

“I wonder…,” Marianne starts, dreamily, “Could it be…”

“Pray tell, my queen,” says Marcus, “What is it?”


Felicity lets out a gasp. “That curse,” she whispers.

Madeleine looks up. “What about it? What curse? Who is this Harriet?”

At that, the kings and queens speak up, in a chaos, explaining to Madeleine about the witches, the bond, and the curse. And from there a conclusion is drawn. It is this: The prince has turned into a frog.

“A frog?” asks a doubtful Madeleine.

“W-w-well, he is to be turned into something you hate,” sobs Felicity, “And what can a princess hate, but a frog?”

Madeleine is dumb-struck. Felicity starts sobbing noisily, “Oh, my poor son… Poor, poor cupcake…” while Marcus and Francis order their men to collect every frog living in the two kingdoms and miles around them.

The unwilling princess starts kissing the frogs one-by-one. Nothing happens until the hundreth-or-so frog.

Felicity shrieks.

“What now?” an annoyed Madeleine asks.

“You have to kiss it on the mouth,” says Felicity, “On their mouths, wench, not on their hides.”


Felicity nods vigorously and commands the servants to bring the kissed frogs back, so the princess can kiss them again.

Three days and no results later, the princess has had enough.

“No more frogs, Nathaniel,” says she to Nate.

(to be continued)