John Carpenter's Story

It would seem, that in the Realm of Enchantment, there are heroes and there are villains. At least, that's what we were all told anyway. The truth is this - we don't know their real stories. We don't know why the villains became the bad characters we know and the heroes the pinnacle of goodness. The Realm of Enchantment is not truly painted in black and white in the way that the books and movies would tell us. In this world, one would be surprised to find out that not all things are as we were told...

The Enchanted Realm is in chaos. Villains are sick of the world they live in where the "heroes" are free to live their lives and all others are condemned. They want their freedom, too. They have been wronged and their pasts have been twisted beyond belief. They do have a purpose in life. They have a will to live. The desire, most of all, their very own happy ending. However, with the heroes standing in their way at every turn, they have come to only one conclusion - the good guys would have to die.

Jafar was one of these villains. He had the most powerful weapon in all of the Enchanted Realm at his greedy fingertips; the omnipotent Genie. With the help of so many other misunderstood characters wallowing on their seeming unhappy-ever-afters, a plan to bring death to all of the Realm's "heroes" was conceived. As others across the Realm heard news of this dark plan, they began to try to figure out how to stop it.

However, they could not stop Jafar. In their finals moments, the heroes that knew death was coming clung to the most powerful white magic in all the Realm - hope. It was this hope that, when Jafar's magic swept across the Realm, kept their physical bodies alive and thrust them through a rift between Enchantment and the real world. The rift created a town out of nothing called Storybook, Connecticut - known to the real world as Essex. The people that enter can't ever seem to leave, and it doesn't exist on any map.

Jafar was not happy that his plan did not work exactly, but upon discovering that they were in a new place, he had the Genie erase everyone's memories and give them new lives in this new world. He kept certain villains with their memories intact. He currently runs the Councillor's office under Mayor Catherine Wyland. Those in charge are in complete control of everyone, yet everyone else thinks they are living a perfectly normal life.

This is their happily-ever-after, and they intend to keep it that way - no matter what.

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~ Memories ~
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An only lady came tumbling out of a well in the woods, falling flat on her face! She got up, wiped away the dirt, and pat down her fluffy blue dress. "My, my, my, what a trip! What a trip." She took a quick look around her surroundings. It's the middle of the night and most of the town of Essex is asleep or in their homes. She walked down a beaten path until a road was found, at which point she could see the sleepy streets and dark buildings.

"Where am I?" she asked, adjusting the glasses to sit better across her nose. Her eyes scrunched and she dipped a hand into her dress and produced a wand. "Let's see what we can do about this mess. It's quite the mess!" The old lady already knew what had happened to the Enchanted characters, but she didn't know how to fix the problem. She had magic, but she didn't have enough of it to awaken the whole town. Instead, she decided that she could do something else... She did not come here without a plan, after all.

She bippity-boppity-booped herself from one building and home to the next; acquiring items and placing them in a seemingly endless magic bag. Underneath everyone's doors, except for the villains that were well-aware of Essex and its true nature, were given invitations to a formal silent auction event at the city hall. For those vile beings that still retained their memories, she had something else - magic that would put them to sleep for twenty-four hours. That would be enough time to allow everyone else to enjoy the event and get back what belonged to them - their memories.

The Enchanted Realm was falling apart due to key characters having been ripped away and thrown into this prison. It is time for them to come home, but they'd have to remember who they are, first.

As quietly as the Fairy Godmother came, she seemed to disappear. But not back into the Enchanted Realm, rather as the out-of-town host to the black-tie event.

* * *

And that is where the citizens of Storybook are tonight on a warm summer evening around 6 pm at city hall. Upon entering they are greeted by a humble doorman, and the normally bland interior is alight with grandeur, enchantment and alive with gentle classical music.

Mrs. Picket is there to greet them with a smile on her face, directing everyone toward the grand hall that had been refurbished into a room fit for dance, entertainment, and food.

Hugging one of the walls are long tables that have items to be silently auctioned off. Little to the knowledge of the Enchanted characters, they are items that belonged to them in their fairytale origins. They feel compelled to bid on their trinkets, no matter how absurd they were or how little money they had. Every so often, a little magic would make sure that no one was outbid by either erasing higher bids or placing an extra zero or two by certain names.

Mrs. Picket operated under the notion that all money would be donated to charity, but there'd be no money at all. Mrs. Picket was putting all of her faith, the lives of those still in the Enchanted Realm, in the hands of these few. This was the only way to begin breaking the spell Jafar cast upon the town.

There was much to do still and not a lot of time left to do them. This night could not last forever, as pained as Mrs. Picket felt for all involved. As she walked through the gala she noted the relationships that have formed, and part of her knew that happiness would be broken as the curse slowly lifted. But this was for the best, she told herself over and over again. They did not belong in this earthly realm, for every precious moment spent living their best lives in Essex, the Enchanted Realm withered away thanks to the vile curse of the Evil Queen. It wouldn't be long until it was gone for good. The people needed their beacons of hope, but they are all here in Essex.

Several fancy individuals went around the auction tables, presumably to look at the bids placed. They took about 30 minutes, or so, to close the auction and place the winning number on each item. It was a silent auction, after all.

After a while, the music died down and Mrs. Picket took the stage front and center. Waiters and waitresses carried trays of champaign, offering one thin fluke to each person. She was given a mic, tapped it a couple of times, did the comical and fun one, two, three . . . test, test. She laughed a little to lighten the mood because there was nothing joyous about the occasion. Those that have lived miserable lives in the Enchanted Realm had grown content here, but Mrs. Picket's magic would soon shred their reality.

"What a wonderful night. It's been lovely to see all these faces together in one spot," she smiled as best she could. Of course, it was easy for her - she had such a bright outward appearance and personality that it was hard to see her as anything but jovial. She's just a happy old lady! "The silent auction has ended. You will find the winning bids place on the items," she gestured toward the various auction tables. There were, indeed, large white cards placed near each item with the number of its owner. It didn't matter if someone outbid them or if someone bid on their behalf; the digits would match whomever the item belonged to.

"I know, I know," she paced to and fro, adding a little comedy to her routine, "Such an eclectic inventory, right? And that's putting it nicely." She paused for the obligatory laughs. No one would leave an old lady hanging, even if her humor was dry, right?

She raised her glass in the air toward those gathered. They were waiting for her to get to the point, and she gets that. It's a long night and there are far too many personalities here for everything to remain pleasant. "The proceeds from the auction will go toward those suffering without hope." She paused, took a look around the room, and smiled lightly. Come tomorrow, this throng of good Essex people will be shattered. "Dance, be merry, and enjoy each other. Tomorrow will mark a new beginning in Essex. But I hope you will always remember that there is always hope. Hope in the world, in each other, and even in that which is hopeless - be it a person or situation. Believe in change. Believe in... goodness."

She wanted to sigh because certain individuals here were not going to change for anything. But she proceeded to be content in her vague ramblings. Maybe many would just dismiss her as an old senile lady, for she is quite geriatric. "So let's toast to that - hope, for it can be found in even the darkest places. Even in... all of this," she gestured around to the auction tables once more with a free hand.

After finishing off her drink, she addressed them for the last time. "Well, it's been lovely, dearies. My job here is done, and I must go." She left the stage, allowed others to say their good-byes to her and she to them. The Enchanted Realm had so few heroes within it to help stave off the Evil Queen's magic, and the Fairy Godmother was one of them. Even just spending a few hours here could have caused harm.

With that, Mrs. Picket left the building and went back from whence she came. She took one last look at Essex and the dimly lit streets before she "poofed" away as though she was never here. However, unlike she had intended in the beginning, she'd leave the residents a memory of her as to take a few words to heart later.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Enchanted Realm whole cities, kingdoms, and minor-realms were at war with one another. Many of them were headed by the co-conspirators of Jafar or the Evil Queen, both with the same goal in mind. The Realm was decaying at a rapid rate, and no one knew who to blame for the mess. The skies everywhere were a dour shade of grey, and the flora and fauna were diseased and deathly. Everyone was frightened because they were without proper leadership. The loss of certain characters meant the end of hope.

The Fairy Godmother returned to a small clearing in the Enchanted Forest that was kept alive by the magic of herself and a few others. She stepped into a small hut and nodded slowly, "They will come. Of that, I have no doubt."

The Blue Fairy, the six Fairies that blessed Aurora, and even the one that was said to have cursed Beast, were all having dinner at a large round table. It wasn't anything special; just stew. "We'll see," one of the six Fairies scoffed. "We should still look for a way to break this curse. Just in case. Who'd want to return to this?"

The Blue Fairy laughed solemnly, "Ah, yes - that will be quite the dilemma. Won't it?"

The Fairy Godmother peered out of a window. The skies were clear here, but she could see the tendrils of dark light stretching slowly toward them. "Hope, ladies. Hope. It's the only thing we have left."

They would all agree to disagree. Some of them felt that these were the end of days, and others were more optimistic. However, they were all realistic. Realistically, life was hell in the Enchanted Realm - even for those that supposedly had their "Happy Endings" - whatever that meant. Life here was no storybook.