Once upon a time, long before the name Karen had taken on any negative connotation, there was a miller who had a daughter who he named Karen. Karen was his eldest daughter, his favourite, so he didn’t really pay any mind to his other daughters.

Karen was very beautiful, with long wavy dark hair and a coquettish grin. Karen and her father, just called ‘Miller’, were always looking for the next scam, scheming about how they could get rich quick. The pair weren’t so talented at the follow-through, however. When Karen and Miller started a get-rich-quick scheme convincing the maids-a-milking to part with their goat placentas, and packaged them into face creams, they didn’t realise that they would need to drum up a market for such face cream. Instead, Karen had a metric shit-ton of goat placentas in various states of decay at home. The pair had also recently sent all of last year’s miller-ing profits to a gentleman who lived somewhere called Venezia. They were going to be rich quick as soon as 5 fools from other kingdoms were convinced to send them all of their miller-ing profits.

When Karen played the ‘Boff-Marry-Kill’ game with the other maidens in the village, she chose:           

-Boff King Caligula (she’d heard great things);

-Kill Henry the VIII (she had had a short-lived fling with him already which some might say was cheating at the Boff-Marry-Kill game, but she wasn’t taking any chances on being short-lived herself);

-and Marry King Maximillian, tall regal leader of her local kingdom, aptly named The Kingdom of the Mostness.

Karen and Miller set out upon a plan to make her Marry dream a reality, ensuring a happily-ever-after that would be full of riches for the both of them. Miller liked imagining the title he’d give himself ‘King Father’, which had a much better ring to it than the ‘Queen Mother.’ And if it didn’t work out between Karen and Max, his other daughters were still pliable, though Stacey would need a nose job.

Unbeknownst to Karen, King Maximillian was playing a ‘Boff-Marry-Kill’ game of his own—and the king was talented at follow-through. The only problem with King Maximillian’s playing the game, was that he could not decide which of the three he wanted to do to Karen the most. Boffing her would be fine. But when he thought of Karen, he had thoughts of Marry and Kill of much higher, and exactly equal fondness.  

One afternoon, when the miller was delivering the corn and wheat flour for the king’s baker to make tortillas and French bread pizza and even sourdough, the miller saw that the king was sitting alone in his great dining hall drinking mead. It was an opportune time to spin a yarn about his daughter Karen, and to get moving on the princely marriage plan.

So, Miller told King Max about his beautiful daughter. The King was intrigued, having already had his eye on Karen. But Max didn’t usually slum it with commoners, so he asked Miller what special talents Karen had. He hoped it might be something with her teeth. But Miller—knowing the King loved his gold— told him that Karen had special powers of turning flower petals to gold using only a spinning wheel. Our miller had a problem with braggadocio, and bragged to the king at length about the gold Karen could make. He showed the king his gold ring and said that Karen had made it while he slept. When the King inquired why Miller wasn’t as rich as Midas if his daughter had this power, Miller had to think quickly. He said it was a secret special power, so that Karen would really only be able to do it in any significant amount if she lived in a castle. A castle exactly like the king’s castle.

Our Maximillian, no fool despite the tumblers of mead he’d had that afternoon, told Miller to bring Karen to him. Karen arrived, decked out in her most regal purple peasant-wear, adding her gold bracelet and ring that she was certain would soon be replaced by her kingly suitor.

Max immediately locked Karen in the castle’s dungeon.

When Miller and Karen screamed and begged, asking what he was doing, the King said that Karen now lived in the castle, so she could turn flowers to gold. In fact, she would need to turn all the roses and petunias and irises his servants piled in the dungeon into gold—before morning, or he would have no choice except to pick Kill in the ‘Boff-Marry-Kill’ game.

Miller tried to reason with the king, but it was no use. On his way back to his villa that night, a small man overheard him mumbling, “… three more daughters where that one came from. Plan B. Get Sharon some new coconuts for her brassiere.”

Our King went up to retire in his chamber, greeted by other courtesans for his regular evening Boffing.

Karen was left crying in the dungeon, until a kind little man magically appeared, asking, “Why are you crying so?”   

Karen replied that he should leave her alone because she only dated tall rich kings. And he’d be an easy choice for Kill in the game. She needed to figure out how to spin the petals into gold, or tomorrow morning it would be the gallows for her.

The little man told her that his name was Rumpelstiltskin, and that his magic power was spinning gold out of flowers. Like she should care who he was? He could turn the tulips and wisteria and violets into gold, in exchange for something. She didn’t believe he could really do it, but her father had gotten her pretty well stuck in the current life vs. death situation, so Karen told him that she would give him her ring if he could turn all the petals to gold. She hoped that afterward, she could figure out how he had gotten himself into the dungeon, and thus how she could get out of the dungeon. However, she fell fast asleep while he laboured.       

When Karen heard the king turn the key of the dungeon lock in the morning, the little man and the piles of petals were nowhere to be seen, but there were bars of gold all around. The king was very pleased.

“Good morning, your Royal Highness. You see, I have made all of this gold to share with you.”

Karen then tried to step past him out into the sunlight of the palace, but with a glint in his eye, he said, “Not so fast. This was just a trial run. Tonight, I will have you spin more petals into gold, and then we shall see what we do with you.”

That night, the king’s men brought all the flowers in the kingdom to the dungeon for Karen to spin into gold. Soon Karen began to cry at full volume again, hoping that would make the strange midget return. When he mysteriously reappeared, she said, “OK, this time I’ll give you my bracelet if you can spin this into gold. And also I need to know how you are getting yourself in and out of here, just in case I need to make a quick escape.”

He informed her that he came and went in a way that only smaller people would fit. Karen didn’t like him implying that she was large and began yelling at him that he was “ugly and little” and said that all she needed to do was scream and people would believe her rather than him about what he was doing to her in the dungeon.

He turned to leave, at which point she turned on the waterworks, begging him to help her, to please please turn the gerbera daisies, daffodils, and dahlias to gold in exchange for the bracelet. Why she thought her cheap trinkets was of any interest when he could make gold is something Karen never thought about. She would never have guessed that it was because he missed being loved and getting presents just because. He had recognised who Karen was, and the kind of father she had, and just focused on trying to nurture her. 

The next morning, the king was even more pleased with the amount of gold. But he found himself even more ambivalent about what to do with Karen. He had fashioned an exquisite torture chamber in the second dungeon, and should he decide to Kill her, she would be the first opportunity to use it. But he did want a lifetime supply of gold. So he told her, “one more time.”

If she could turn all the lilies and violets and poppies from all the outlying villages into gold on the third night, then he would Marry her rather than Kill her. He hoped to still be able to Boff her if they married, but the rules of the game are not always clear depending on who you ask.

Unfortunately for our Karen, she had run out of jewellery to give the tiny man in exchange for his life-saving gold-making. She tried to seduce him, and offer him her purple clothes, but neither her clothes nor she smelled too good after three days in the dungeon. Then he came up with an idea of something she could give him in the future—if she was the same as her father.

“Promise me, on all that is sacred, that if I turn all the petals into gold for you, to save your life, you will give me your firstborn.”

Karen figured that such a contract was not really enforceable, and that after she became Queen, she could just put out a hit on this tiny man, so she agreed. After all, she had read The Art of the Deal. The small man, suspecting she did not honour her promises, made her spit and shake on it.

The third morning, the king saw more gold than he had ever seen before, and knew that Karen was the one for him. They rushed through a wedding fit for a princess, gold everywhere. No petals remained, so they decided not to have a flower girl at the wedding. And so, Karen became Queen Karen of The Mostness. And Mostness it was, for gold filled up a great many rooms of the castle. The villagers and the king’s servants did miss the flowers though.  

After Miller convincing her that he had always known she’d find a trick to spin flowers into gold, Karen let Miller move into a spare room at the castle. But there was no space in the spare room for a bed, since it too was filled with gold. He had to sleep standing up, and the blood pooled in his legs and feet making them swell larger and larger. The kingdom’s doctor treated him for “a most unusual Kingdom of the Mostness blood stasis disorder.” Four months later, he perished from a lack of blood to his brain.

Karen and Maximillian were delightfully happy with all their gold. They travelled to other kingdoms, always in princess class, because of their good fortune. Karen kept it a secret that it was all from that mini-man. Max bought anything he could get his royal hands on, figuring that Karen could just make more gold whenever he needed. He gave lavish gifts to his courtiers and his courtesans.

Nine months after the wedding day, Queen Karen gave birth to Prince Florian, with the help of her 24 ladies-in-waiting and the 17 midwives. Karen and Max rarely saw Florian, instead leaving his care to the 3 wet-nurses and 12 nannies that the king had hired, including one who spoke Spanish, one who spoke Italian, and two who spoke French, so that Florian would be properly cultured when he was old enough to speak. The kingdom seamstresses sewed Florian gold layette clothes. The nannies ordered books to teach Florian about flowers since there were no more in the kingdom.

Karen and Max knew their baby would be King one day. Karen posed for painters holding her baby up in front of her so you couldn’t see her belly. Tasteful nude portraits with the baby as a prop were the closest the baby got to her. Karen and Max imagined how much the baby would love them when it got older, because they were so amazing. But for now, Karen and Max had much more important gold to spend their time with, rather than a baby!

The small man worried that the two, despite the wealth he gave them, were showing themselves as not exactly fit parents. And there was no such thing as Child Protective Services in the Kingdom of the Mostness. Plus he had always wanted a baby of his own. It turns out that the man had had quite a military career, his small size and spritely movements a blessing. His name had once been known throughout the kingdom, but he had suffered an upper leg and testicular injury in the Great War for the Kingdom of the Mostness, years before. Subsequently, he faded into obscurity and no one could remember him. And so here he was, deciding whether to ask the Queen to come through on her side of the bargain, at the same time giving Florian a loving dad, and himself someone to dote on.

So he returned, beckoning to the Queen one night when she was returning from her drunken carousing in the dining hall. “I need you to give me what you promised.”

Queen Karen first tried to offer the tiny man gold and riches. She didn’t seem to realise that he could make more of those whenever he wanted—that was his secret power. He told her, “Your baby would be dearer to me than all the gold in all the kingdoms. I would treat him so well, I would love him.”

The Queen, well aware of her position of power, let out a piercing scream, and all the King’s men came running. By the time they arrived, the small man had departed. The Queen had a story worked out though: they needed to find a midget who had snubbed her, so he could answer for his crime. After releasing all the king’s horses and all the king’s men to find the little man, she slept peacefully. Like a baby. It was annoying how it was taking so long to lose the baby-weight and how her breasts kept filling up with milk even though she had wet-nurses and nannies for the baby.

The next night, the little man forgotten, she caroused as usual with the King and her courtesans. But when she was next alone, the tiny man returned. “I’m here for Florian. You promised. He’ll be dearer to me than all the kingdom’s treasures.”

Queen Karen was shocked at her own foolishness. The tiny man didn’t really seem like he’d hurt her, but she had sent away all the king’s horses and all the king’s men. Karen knew she didn’t even really want Florian around for any particular reason, but it felt like she shouldn’t just give him away to this rando. She was the Queen! So she turned on the waterworks and said “Please, please sir! Please, give me any riddle to figure out so I can keep the baby.”

The little man pitied her, and for some reason, he loved the rule of three. So he said “Alright, you have three days. If you can remember my name on the third day, on your third guess, then you can keep the baby. Remember, I told you who I was when I saved your life?”

The next day, the nannies came to Karen saying that they had lost the baby. They had put him down in a pile of gold, and then couldn’t find him anywhere. But once he started crying, they found him in a different pile of gold. Karen realised she couldn’t have cared less.

When all the king’s horses and all the king’s men returned, and had not found the man and didn’t know his name, Karen was at a loss. When the man came back on the third day, she offered three random guesses of names she thought she’d heard somewhere before: “Bill Cosby? J.K. Rowling? Ellen DeGeneres?” before she tried throwing herself at him again. What dwarf could resist? But he could. At last, she agreed to let him take the baby, and agreed not to have him followed. Or Killed, since that was which she would have picked for him, had she been allowed to play the Boff-Marry-Kill game anymore.

Karen figured Maximillian wouldn’t really notice that Florian was gone. And if he did, she could just blame the nannies anyway, and they could just have another one.

Rumpelstiltskin took Prince Florian home, and loved him, kept him warm, and fed him well. Florian traded in his gold jumpsuit for a cloth diaper. Rumpelstiltskin’s magic did not involve making breastmilk, so he did need to hire a wet-nurse with some gold he had spun from his rhododendron. But Rumpelstiltskin had saved the rest of the hundreds of flowers in his little garden, for they were beautiful and made him feel happy and alive. Florian felt secure and loved, new feelings for him.

A few weeks later, Maximillian said to Karen, “something feels off, I can’t put my finger on it…like something’s missing from my castle.” He retreated to re-count his gold, but it was all there, so he figured it was nothing.

The next summer, Karen and Maximillian died after their livers exploded from a malicious dual case of hoarding and excess merriment. When the prince and his foster father moved into the palace, they split the bulbs from Rumpelstiltskin’s garden and replanted flowers of all kinds across the far reaches of the kingdom.

And then Prince Florian and Rumpelstiltskin lived happily, truly happily, ever after.

Susan Hatters Friedman is a psychiatrist specializing in forensic psychiatry and maternal mental health. She is pursuing a Master's in Crime Fiction at the University of Cambridge, and has studied satire writing with the Second City. She has always loved fairy tales, but found them difficult to read to her children.