TITLE: LOVE'S BOUNTIFUL BULGE
GENRE: Humor (romance novel parody, or fauxmance novel)
She was beautiful, except for the hemorrhoids. The morning sun dawned, glorious and bright, upon the silken, porcelain visage of Princess Zelizabeth. Resplendent, the lithesome lady perched upon a velveteen chaise in the Royal Waiting Room, at the top of the tallest tower, beside the petting zoo, adjacent to the Corridor of Gruesome Tapestries, inside Zwindsor Palace, its turrets sparkling in a golden shower of, well, golden, of course, and vermilion splendor. One particularly playful ray reflected in her sapphirine eyes, whose color had been described as the most splendorous in Zengland, yea, even all the known world!
"F*****g A, Clumpetta! Shut the f*****g curtains," spake Zelizabeth. Her dulcet tones roused her faithful maidservant. With a sigh, Clumpetta rearranged the window-dressing. She should stop staring at the gleaming towers anyhow, for they always brought to mind giant, turgid, erect --
"Holy c***s, I'm hung over," the princess groaned. "And itchy. Fetch my ass cream."
"Miss, let us hurry." The servant girl clumped to get medicinal salve (her manner of walking due to an unfortunate mismatchedness in lower-limb length), and discussed the plot, er, their present predicament. "The Prince's Bruncheon Ball will start soon. You must a-marry him, or you'll end up... " she heaved a steadying breath, "poor."
Zelizabeth crossed herself. "A fate worse than death. Urgh, I'm gonna spew." Whereupon she did. Clumpetta managed a spectacular catch in her handy porta-puke bucket, and considered that "quick at hustling vomit" would look excellent on her resume, if unworthy peasants were allowed to change jobs.