02.17 AM

This is a transcript I wrote many years ago off an animated short by Katy Towell, writer, animator and illustrator of the Childrin R Skary series. Both in text and animation, the story of Genevieve is one of my favourites. The animation short can be seen here.

I’m sorry to tell you, but your history books are incorrect. They are all missing a very important chapter - or perhaps historians didn’t wish to upset anyone. It is true, nonetheless, that the world was once ruled with the iron fist of a three-and-a-half-year-old girl. Let us go back if you have a moment. Back to the time before Genevieve ruled the world…

Genevieve von Gier had the sort of life that most children can only make-believe. She lived in a grand mansion with a long, winding drive at the front and a hedge maze in the back. She had her very own playroom in addition to her own dressing room, drawing room and ball room. There was not a toy Genevieve wanted that she did not possess or if not could be bought, she had her personal team of toymakers to create it for her. Genevieve was not a spoiled child. No, she was privileged. And entitled, she thought, for she never fussed. Never fought. Never spoke out of turn, and always stayed out of the grownups’ way. Other children were not so well-behaved as Genevieve and didn’t they get motorcars for their birthdays too? The trouble started on a Thursday. Genevieve’s mother always went shopping on Thursdays and always ALWAYS brought home something new for Genevieve. But not this Thursday. ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ said her mother upon return, ‘I looked everywhere, but there was not a new toy to be found … I’m afraid you have everything in the world! Maybe there will be more toys next year, hmm?’ Genevieve was stunned. Next year. Next YEAR! Why, she would be FOUR by then! No, no, this would never do. There must be SOMETHING she did not have! She went to her toymakers, who look at one another and frowned. They were not supposed to say no to Genevieve, but what else could they possibly tell her when they were completely out of ideas? ‘A talking doll!’ suggested one. Genevieve shook her head. ‘A talking BEAR!’ said another. ‘That dances!’ Genevieve shook her head again. She had eleven talking, dancing bears including one that sang ‘Bingo’ in eight different languages. ‘Blocks?’ said a third. The others murmured in approval. Genevieve scowled. No, no, NO. Was there nothing to be done? The toymakers wrung their hands. ‘Please accept our apologies, Ms. von Gier,’ said one. ‘But what can we create for you when you have everything in the world?’ ‘Perhaps if you could find something you like,’ said another with a hopeful smile. ‘W-we could make it better!’ The others nodded in agreement, but Genevieve was not appeased. Without another word, she stormed back to her playroom and fumed. ‘Cheer up, Genie,’ said her Nanny Anne. ‘There’s more to life than toys. When I was a child, we only got presents twice a year! Sometimes they were even second-hand!’ Genevieve pouted. How could she say such a thing? If Nanny Anne had ever been a child, she would surely know what a world without new toys was… Just then, an idea began to form in Genevieve’s mind. ‘A world without new toys,’ she thought. ‘That’s IT!’ And faster than you could say ‘Jack Spratt’ she was off to her drawing room to begin the plans. She would need help carrying them out, of course. Genevieve was very bright for her age, but not so very tall. Then there was small matter of Mother and Father. They were awfully slow about these things. No, she would have to take matters in her own tiny hands and Mother and Father would have to stay out of the way for once. Genevieve drew long into the night, even sneaking out of bed once she was certain Nanny Anne had gone to sleep. She drew until at last her eyelids betrayed her, and she drifted into sleep, still clutching her favourite crayon. In the morning, a bleary-eyed little girl went down to see the toymakers with her plan. When they saw Genevieve’s drawings, they gasped, they guffawed, they griped about numbers, but… they did exactly as she asked. They were not supposed to say no to Genevieve. Two seasons passed before she saw her plans take shape… but at last - at LAST - the time had come! To Genevieve’s delight, the toymaker’s warehouse reopened, to reveal thousands upon thousands of toys! Big ones, small ones, talking dolls and dancing bears …squadrons of every kind of toy imaginable! Not that Genevieve did not already own one of each, of course. These, however, were very much improved. For Genevieve had decided that if the world had nothing new for her… she would have the world herself and she would get it with the help of her very own army. Now, you may laugh at Genevieve’s idea. Little girls can be terrifying in their own small way, but a threat to the world as we know it? The idea is laughable. … Which, my friends, is precisely why it worked so well. She took over Germany with teddy bears. America she conquered with a collection of pop-up books. Russia proved particularly challenging, but she won in the end with an invention she called… The Tinker Man. One by one, every country, state and territory fell to Genevieve and her army of toys… and it happened in only four days. The world belonged to Genevieve now, and it was hers to do with as she pleased. If Genevieve wanted every playground on Earth to be coated in candy it was done as Genevieve commanded. If she wanted each person in the world to sing her name of the tune of ‘O Suzanna’… each person - great and small - did as she demanded. How did she feel, now that she owned the very biggest toy of all? A little tired. As Genevieve sat upon her custom gingerbread throne her little head began to feel heavy and her eyes began to close. She suddenly missed Nanny Anne, and her Mother and Father, too. Perhaps, she told herself as she faded into Dream Land she would send the Tinker Man to find them in the morning. But when morning came, Genevieve was gone. Some suggested foul play, but who could have done such a thing to a small child - even a very naughty one? Others thought perhaps she’d gotten bored with the world and might have gone home to her parents. The truth was that no one knew what happened to the three-and-a-half-year-old tyrant, but nobody wanted to find her… You may be sceptical of this history. Those who lived it will tell you - a little too quickly - that it never happened, but I assure you. It happened exactly as I have told you. If you don’t believe me, just ask yourself why. Why did your grandparents spoil you with toys and sweetmeats as they did? Was it only out of affection? Or was it also - perhaps, just the teensiest bit - out of the fear that their own little prince or princess just might be the Genevieve of our time?