“Young lady! I swear to god, if you don’t stop laughing—!”
“Sorry,” the new Queen chortles. “I’m sorry! It’s just that your name!”
The impatient elf crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, what about it?”
“What parent in their right mind would give their son that name? It’s so… strange!”
“You’re calling that smelly boy John!”
“John is a decent name!” the queen quips, holding her newborn closer.
“Well, Rumpelstiltskin is, too—!”
“Rumpelstiltskin, huh?” The queen smirks and realization hits.
The gullible elf, his head hanging low, shuffles out of the castle empty-handed.
There goes tonight’s dinner.
*Inspired by the prompt say your name from The Daily Post.