(dark dramatic music)
- [Narrator] When I first sent out
the invitations for the picnic,
I thought there was no way I'd get any responses.
But they surprised me.
Each one, quickly sending back their RSVP.
It was meant to be a simple tea party,
nothing too fancy.
Just a chance for a few ladies to get together
and enjoy a lovely afternoon in a meadow somewhere.
Once I had a list of attendees,
I realized it actually made a lot of sense.
They would show up to any party they could find,
anywhere they could keep the illusion of class
that they carried with them every day.
That was how this all started.
Just minding my own business in line at a coffee shop.
The same place I go to every day.
For some reason, they decided to have
their little book club there,
and on that particular morning our paths crossed.
They were sitting there talking about
a novel they'd recently read when I tripped
and dumped a half cup of coffee right
into their collective laps.
I apologized, but it was too late.
Now there was blood in the water
and the ladies were thirsty as hell.
"Watch where you're going, freak!"
Getting publicly shunned by a group of human Barbie dolls
is humiliating enough, but to have them go after me online,
too, it was worse than high school.
Same bullies, new material.
That's what made me pick this particular rouse.
I knew the rules by now.
I'd heard them dozens of time.
Pick somewhere quiet and secluded,
a place that brings out a person's worst.
It was when I was reciting those rules
to myself when it hit me.
They'd be at their worst if I could make
them believe they were at their best.
And the idea for an afternoon tea party
in a state forest was born.
The meadow was small, sunny in the middle of the day.
Now that it was nearly afternoon, the shadows were long,
throwing pleasant shady streaks across the wildflowers.
In the center was a long wooden table.
I left it undecorated.
Bare of any flourish or color.
Once the entertainment I had arranged
had decided to show up, there would be plenty
of red to go around.
I heard the ladies coming long before I saw them.
Each one more insufferable than the last.
Their annoyance growing with their numbers as they sat
around the table waiting to be served by someone,
for anyone to arrive and wait on their every need.
Then, I cut a lock of my own hair and burned it
as part of the ritual for summoning her; Rapunzel.
I watched all of this from a distance,
safe from my perch in the trees.
See, I couldn't be the one to invite them to the tea party,
they'd never show up for that.
Instead, I invented the High Culture Society,
which to me, didn't even sound real,
but something told me it wouldn't phase this group.
Made a website for it, paid for the fancy stationary,
the whole nine yards, and yet,
despite my specifically mentioning no guests,
one of them had the audacity to bring a plus one.
But when they showed up, all they found was
the long empty table.
They didn't understand what was happening yet.
They couldn't hear the footsteps crunching in the leaves.
Couldn't hear the whispers on the wind.
Most importantly, the group of women didn't realize
that they were the main course.
Everybody knew the story of Rapunzel and Luke in my town,
but it wasn't until the scalpings started
that people began taking things seriously.
And even then, folks still needed some convincing.
Not me, though.
I was always a curious girl and that inclination
had led me to a few conclusions.
The most important of which being that I believed
I could get the two fire-scarred lovers
to deal out some justice for me.
Looking back at Rapunzel's past victims,
it was easy to spot the pattern.
She was out flor blood and targeted a certain type.
The worst type.
The cruel ones, the ones who got off on the agony
and misery of others.
The viciously jealous, the wickedly sadistic.
I hoped my offering was suited to her standards.
And on cue, Rapunzel appeared at the treeline.
From a distance, she was still sort of beautiful,
still moved with a natural grace.
A few of the women spotted her,
but the dirty white dress she wore
seemed more chic than anything else,
so they didn't think much of her.
An Instagram model, a hiker, maybe the girl
who was supposed to serve them their damn finger sandwiches.
Rapunzel stared from a distance.
Her cold, red-rimmed eyes staring balefully
at the group of women.
Burnt, chapped lips opened, a rough whisper tumbling out,
"Ask them".
Then, Luke stepped out from behind her,
standing at her shoulder like a loyal dog on alert.
His varsity jacket was charred,
but you could still make out the patches
if you looked closely.
He started walking toward the women,
his gait steady and intent.
The women assumed he was just another kid.
After all, how scary is a varsity jacket?
They were wrong, of course.
By the time they blinked, Luke was behind them,
closer than he was a split second earlier.
He was good at that.
The next part was incredible to see, even from a distance.
Luke came up behind the pretty redhead,
yanking her head back by the hair,
hissing in her ear.
He was asking her the same thing he asked them all:
"Who lit the fire?"
She had no idea how to answer, so he ripped her scalp
out by the roots in one rough tearing motion.
The spray of blood finally spurred
the frozen women into action.
They scattered like the rodents they were,
all of them fending for themselves.
Another terrible mistake, given that Luke and Rapunzel
can sense wrongdoings.
That's what brings them in the first place;
to balance the scales.
Luke made short work of the rest,
leaving the trees and the leaves dripping with blood.
The whole meadow pattering like a Spring rain.
"Who lit the fire?"
The last woman standing almost made it
to the edge of the meadow and it seemed
like she might escape.
I was actually fine with that,
seeing as she was the one I didn't recognize
from the coffee shop.
Then, Luke caught up to her,
appearing in the shadow beneath a tree.
His hand snapped out, catching her by her blonde hair.
I could hear her whimpering from my vantage point.
"Please, I don't know".
Luke didn't care, keeping her pinned there
as she struggled to get free.
Rapunzel approached slowly, mesmerized by her prey.
Luke looked up at her adoring,
"Do you wanna ask her, Babe?".
Rapunzel stood over her, staring darkly.
Then she knelt, sliding her slender fingers
through the last woman's hair, savoring it.
Rapunzel moved in close, whispering in the woman's ear.
She tried to fight 'em off, sobbing, but it was no use.
"I have no idea.
"You're crazy!"
Rapunzel scowled, annoyed at her insolence.
She looked to Luke seemingly disappointed.
"This one is just like all the others; cruel".
Luke nodded, agreeing.
Then tore her scalp off like the rest,
dropping her corpse to the ground like a puppet
with cut strings.
Luke stood over them both, proudly watching his beloved.
Then, the unthinkable happened.
Luke turned, abruptly shifting his gaze
to stare directly at me.
I froze.
Pure terror icing up my veins.
And before I so much as think of a way out,
I heard the crunch of twigs behind me.
Luke was here.
I felt a cold hand snake its way onto my scalp,
grabbing my hair with purpose, gripping me tight.
Luke's charred, flaked skin rubbed against my cheek
as he whispered his question.
"Who lit the fire?"
I didn't know.
I don't think anybody did anymore.
And I tried to tell him that, but it didn't matter.
All I felt was a searing white hot pain
in my head for a flash of a second
before a warm red veil covered my gaze
as I flopped down onto the forest floor.
I could hear them whispering to each other,
just barely over the sound of my own thundering heart.
"She didn't know".
Rapunzel sounded almost sad.
Luke comforted her, touching her arm.
"But one of them will, and then we can leave together".
Rapunzel nodded, linking arms with him
as they started walking away.
The last thing I saw was Luke and Rapunzel
moving off into the trees,
handfuls of fresh scalps dangling from their fists.
Off to find those who needed to be reminded
of their place in the world.
Off to find an end to their journey.
(dramatic music)