Right you axed fer it. Here it is. I hope you're satisfied. You brought it on yourself. Don't come
complaining to me about it later. I've done it. It's here. Here it is!!!
(On your head be it)
(Don't say I didn't warn you)
...

Snow Various-shades-of-grey and the Seven persons of diminutive
stature. Part Three.

The condensed story so far: King, Wife, Girl, Death, Woman, Marriage, Evil (?), Huntsperson
(Hmm!), Forest (ooh!), Crap (Eugh!), Attempted murder (Ahh!), Escape (Cor!), More Forest
(Ecch!), Cottage (Eek!), Break-in (Akk!), Sleep (Sigh!), Shadowy Singing Figures (Gag!), The
Story Continues (AAAAAAaaaarrgggghhhh!!!!!!!)...

The Seven low level persons carefully entered the small space between the walls (the doorway) and cast their eyes around the dark confines of the room beyond.
"There they are!" exclaimed a voice quietly to his companions.
"What? Where?" asked another.
"In the corner over there." replied the first voice.
"Can't see nuffin," said a third voice, "What is it?"
"Over there, see it's them bloody Three Invisible Bears again."
"Silly Sod. If they's bloody invisible 'ow d'you know them's Bears?"
"Cos they looks like invisible bears."
"Whassa infizziball beer look like den?" asked another underachieved-education voice.
"It looks like them over there dunnit."
There was a muffled klonking sound (The sort of muffled klonking sound that might be associated with a shovel making contact with a very thick head).
"Ouch ya bugger. What you wanna go an' do that fer?"
"You're a special-needs-person. Shut up."

The seven shadowy figures continued through the house and made their way up the stairs little
realising the terror that awaited them (!?!).

"Issa boodifall ghoul."
"Keep back she might be dangerous."
"Phwoar, yeah, let's 'ope so." answered another followed by a curious dribbling noise.
"Get back buddy, I saw 'er first, she's mine."
"Wait all of you. We don't know where she's been."
"I don't care where she's been, I just knows where she's a goin'."

Snow Various-Shades-Of-Grey's eyes flickered open and she was greeted by a grizzly sight. There at the foot of the bed stood (she assumed that they stood, although they might very well have been sitting) seven persons of diminutive stature, all of which were looking at her, and some of which were drooling on her.

"Oh my, who are you?" she gasped.
"We might very well ask the same of you missy." grumbled a sour voice from beyond her feet.
"Sorry, this must be your house being as you're all so shor- erm I mean below average height. I am the Princess (democratically elected), Snow Various-Shades-Of-Grey. I am on the run from my desperately misunderstood Stepmother."
"OH!"
"She can stay then right?"
"Yeah, if she's in trouble she'll 'ave to stay somewhere."
"'Sright. She can sleep in my bed if she likes." (More fevered dribbling).

There was another strange klonking sound and one of the seven figures disappeared suddenly from the end of the bed.

"Awright, awright, she can stay. But if she's gonna sleep in anyones bed its gonna be mine."
"Thank you all very much," replied Snow, "who exactly are you?"
"Well we're workers from a local cosmetics factory deep in the heart of the forest.
Startin' on yer left there you have Sneezy, he deals with powders mostly. Then you have Dozy,
Beaky, Mick and Titch. They work as Porters. That's Doc, who deals with the wages department, so called cos 'e docks everyone's wages. And finally myself. I'm Grumpy."
"I'm sorry to hear it."
"'s my name missy, get used to it. I'm a supervisor at the factory. I gives the orders, Tells 'em what t'do an' I beats 'em wiv a shovel when they don't."
"Oh, I guess they look up to you then."
"Well yes, I am an inch or so taller than them."

Days passed and sleeping arrangements were finally agreed upon. Snow shared the housework while the Seven Persons of Diminutive Stature went to work and occupied her spare time with hours of daytime television comprising of talk shows, game shows, cookery programmes, soaps and her favourite, "This Morning with Dickead & Juggsy".

One day while the undertall guys were out at work, there came a knock at the door (which had
since been replaced in its hole).

"Oh a knock at the door!" exclaimed Snow.

She got up switching off the television just as Dickead was introducing the Midday Monkey quiz where people phone in to answer a series of questions in the hope of winning several monkeys of their very own. Outside the front door stood a Lady of decreased youth, wearing a cloak and carrying a pile of magazines.

"Hello girlie, I am a person of increased lack of life, and of Home deficiency. I am selling The Big Issue in order to supplement my income and my various dependencies, whilst also paying off my mobile phone bill. Would you care to buy a copy?"
"Sorry, what was that you were selling again?"
"Big Issue."
"Gesundheit."
"Thank you dear, how about a copy then?"
"Why yes, of course I'll buy a copy from a kind-if-slightly-age-weathered-and-dentally-challenged faced woman who roams the streets through no fault of her own and should be assisted back into pleasant society by those around her. How much?"
"Pound."
"Done."
"You have been."

Snow paid the female and took the magazine. Too late she noticed that cheap printing costs had lead to the ink rubbing off the pages onto her hands.

"Oh dear my hands are filthy I'll have to..."

Snow passed out. The woman of past retirement age smiled and pulled of the mask that she had been wearing, revealing... Snows Stepmother Elvira (Shock!! you didn't see that one coming did you, How's that for a plot twist?). Elvira threw her stack of magazines to the ground and began to laugh maniacally as she ran away into the forest.

Coming soon (or maybe later after I get complaints that the story isn't finished) Part Four!!!:
Why did Snow answer the door to a complete stranger when her life was in danger?
Why did she pass out?
Why do you want to read this stuff anyway?
Why is the twentyfifth letter of the alphabet!?
Why did I just write that?
Why can't I stop writing these bits at the end?
Why haven't you finished reading this yet?