His mother folded her arms, "Yes you are."

His mother folded her arms, "Yes you are." He leaned against the hockey stick, "No, you're wrong." His mother snickered and looked at his shoes. "Come on Nelson, you know for

for a fact that you're a size too small for those shoes." He glared at her, trying to force them on while the Princess watched in disgust. "You're not the one I met at the hockey g

ame. Finally, the princess asked to try on the skate. Her foot slid into it easily and the prince placed a hockey puck into her hand. It was romantic--until she tried to stand and

fell flat on her face. The princess broke her royal nose and blood gushed out of it. The prince rushed her from the ice skating rink to the hopsital on his noble white stallion and

aunted mansion, where the princess locked up the prince. "You're the worst boyfriend in the world, and that's why you will DIE in this haunted mansion!" the princess screamed.

The prince sat glumly in his cell. It was hard dating a bi-polar princess. "You need help," he said to her gently. "Here. Call Dr. Fistula." She stepped closer to his outstretched

telescoping robotic arm. The bipolar princess slid her fingers over the glossy touchscreen on the prince's wrist to dial the doc's number. "Dr. Fistula's office. May I help you?"

I needed an appointment so I made one. Dr. Fistula saw the bipolar princess at 330 pm that day. The air taxi drove us there since she slept very late. She had taken sleeping pills.

When I asked her why she had taken the sleeping pills she said because they weren't sleeping well. She could tell because they were tossing and turning. They were in a nightmare.