*suspicious knock on cabin door*
Snow White: *stops gazing reflectively at pillow case* Cool! Someone is knocking on the door of the remote cabin I’m hiding in. It is a safe, good choice to open that door and invite whatever it is into my life! *crosses to front door, opens it*
Old Woman: *holds basket with a single apple that is flagrantly shiny* Apple, my dear?
Snow White: Do I know you from the kingdom or something? Legally, I should be wearing glasses, but looking smart and getting a husband are mutually exclusive, so…
Old Woman: *lols politely* We’ve never met, dear. Definitely not. As I was saying—apple? *pushes basket real close to Snow White’s face*
Snow White: I’ve been warned not to speak to strangers. *becomes entranced by her own reflection in the mirror-like apple* But you just want to give me something.
Old Woman: I’ve been working on—I mean carrying—this totally normal apple for many hours. Take it and make an old woman’s day worthwhile.
SW: Well that all seems legit. *takes apple by its stem* Can I pay you for it?
OW: Of course not! Money is impossible for women to come by. What do you do during the day—work? *lols raucously*
SW: Fine. I don’t have money.
OW: It’s yours for the eating. Also, please invite me inside so I can watch you consume it right away.
SW: You want to watch me eat it? Why do people always want to watch me eat things?
OW: *genially pats SW’s shoulder* It’s best to blindly follow my instructions rather than ask questions.
SW: *puts apple into apron pocket* I’m not hungry right now, but if you want to come inside I would love to dump all of my life problems on you for a few hours.
OW: *eye roll over left shoulder* Good idea, dear. Maybe by the time you’re done gabbing, you’ll be ready for a snack.
SW: *helps OW step up into the cabin* I can’t wait for the wisdom you’ll inevitably have for me because old women who are crotchety and probably not married always have the realest advice.
OW: You’re right! I am just a wise old woman who is unburdened by jealousy, contempt, or the sublime thrill of standing nose-to-nose with her archenemy.
SW: *stops gazing reflectively at the old woman’s silver hair which she mistook for a clouded mirror* I hope I never get old. *sighs*
OW: *lols knowingly* Just wait until after you’re married, dear.
SW: I know it’s hard to believe, but I’ve been experiencing a little boy trouble.
OW: *eye roll over right shoulder* Oh?
SW: I’m afraid that I might be too pretty. Like people are threatened by it.
OW: Oh yes, yes. I can definitely see women feeling threatened by you. *looks at SW a little too intensely*
SW: No. I mean men. Like they look at me, see how f*cking pretty I am, and then assume that I want nothing to do with them.
OW: That’s not really a thing.
SW: Mmm I think it is though.
OW: No, I don’t—
SW: Then how is it possible that the dwarves haven’t proposed yet?
OW: What the—
SW: *pulls out apple to use as a mirror, takes an inordinately long look* Me oh my. How have I ever been single?
OW: Oh my God. Please stop.
SW: Life just doesn’t make sense! Can’t you help me?
OW: At this point, I don’t—
SW: Should I go back to wearing glasses? *gasps* Do the dwarves need glasses?
OW: I can’t with this anymore. *swipes apple from SW’s hand*
SW: What the—how are you so fast? You could barely walk up the step—
OW: *bites the obviously-poisoned apple (like wtf, SW, you should never be able to discern your reflection in an apple)*
SW: Um, what’s happening? I’m trying to have a breakthrough.
OW: Out, out brief apple! Free me from this talking harpy’s hell-hole! *seizes and falls limp*
SW: Hmpf! Now who’s going to help me find a man?