The queen called her hunter to the throne room and composed herself. By the time he arrived, she was refreshed and calm, beautiful in long red robes with no hint of her previous state of disarray.
"Hunter," she said. "I need you to take Snow White far from here and slit her throat. She has practiced evil sorcery to the detriment of our kingdom. I need you to bring back her heart as proof of the deed well done."
The hunter stood a moment, lost in thought. He was a large, gruff man used to a hard day's work. His hands were large and calloused, his beard scruffy, and his shoulders wide with the knowledge of hard work. He reached down and scratched his balls before answering the queen.
"Well, ma'am, I don't know much about the workings of evil, but I've been out in the woods for a long time and I was looking forward to a hot shower and a hard fuck before I was planning on going back out to the wilderness. That Snow White is a pretty piece of ass. I don't suppose I could lay it to her before I did the deed?"
"No indeed." The queen answered, outraged.
"Then I suppose I'll have to refuse the request. I've got myself to think about."
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