On a business trip into the city, a traveling salesman of skin care products picked up a fairy princess who was disguised as a fat, aged, former go-go dancer and brought her home with him. His wife was not as taken by this old lady as was he and, ignoring his pleas that the poor woman at least be granted the mercy of sharing their bed, she sent her to the basement to sleep by the coal bin, assigning her the daily task of stoking the furnace. Of course this was not a problem for the fairy: the coal flew into the furnace on its own, and when the cruel wife refused to wash her husband’s trousers and shirts when they turned up in the laundry basket with blackened knees and elbows, the fairy turned the furnace into one that used natural gas, cushioned the basement floor with soft luxuriant carpet, stocked the unused larder with the world’s finest wines and delicacies (the salesman was a beer drinker, but she was not), and added a pool table, a bar, a whirlpool bath, and a rotating circular bed with red satin sheets.
