Goldinarc and the Three Empaths

goldinarc

 

Once upon a time, there was a narcissist called Goldinarc. She went for a walk in the Forest of Empathy as she had heard that there were always some fresh victims she could find there. Pretty soon, she came upon a beautiful cottage. She didn’t bother knocking, she never did and in accordance with her sense of entitlement she just pushed the door open and walked in.

She found the interior to have all the trappings of empathy. There was a large doormat with welcome written on it, there were various books about spirituality, self-improvement and the universe on a set of shelves and the décor was relaxing and not showy.

“I wouldn’t live here myself,” she sniffed as she wandered through the rooms until she entered the kitchen where she saw three bowls of soup on the table. Feeling hungry and knowing that she had an inalienable right to commandeer the resources of another, she tasted the soup from the first bowl.

“Yuk, what a cheap and nasty tasting soup,” spluttered Goldinarc and she tipped the soup onto the floor smiling at the dismay the owner of the house would experience and thus she gained some Thought Fuel. She moved on to the next bowl.

“Urrgh cabbage soup, clearly someone is trying to lose some weight, obviously not as beautiful as me. I do not need to eat this crap,” she announced and poured the contents on the floor also.

Goldinarc turned to the third bowl. This bowl was beautifully designed and set with precious stones. A silver spoon rested in it and Goldinarc scooped up a mouthful of the soup.

“Oh that is delicious, a bowl of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall. Yum yum.” Goldinarc ate it all up. When she had finished she suddenly felt restless and annoyed.

“I enjoyed that soup but whoever made it thinks they can make better soup than me. I hate them!” So in a fit of ignited fury she smashed the ornate bowl on the floor and bent the silver spoon in her mouth before dropping it on to the table.

After scoffing the bowl of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall soup, Goldinarc decided she needed to sit down and watch some television. She moved to the living room and found a small wooden stool.

“I am not sitting on that, that is a stool for a peasant,” she sneered and slammed her foot down on it, breaking the wooden stool.

Her eyes alighted on an armchair with a cushion which looked rather comfortable. She tried it but if felt lumpy. Scowling, Goldinarc jumped up and ripped the cushion apart as she called the chair names, slashing at the fabric with her long, red nails.

Just then she saw a throne.

“Aha, that is far more to my taste,” she remarked. She settled on the throne and felt most at home as she imagined how people would admire her as she sat resplendent and noble. After a while however she became bored because there was nobody there to see what she was doing so she stood up and took a knife from the kitchen. She carved her name into the throne.

“Now, since it obviously belongs to me, everyone will know it is mine and therefore nobody else is allowed to sit in it,” she said smugly.

Goldinarc gave a yawn. All this malicious behaviour was tiring but she also felt weak because nobody was around to see her machinations, so she decided that she would head upstairs and have a nap to await the owners of the cottage who would surely be home soon and available to provide her with some fuel.

Once upstairs, Goldinarc found three bedrooms. She entered the first and found a very small bed in an extremely tidy room.

“That bed is no use to anybody, pathetic!” she declared and tipped it over before knocking over the carefully placed bottles, books and other trappings of the bedroom’s owner, making a right old mess.

She went into the second bedroom and found a bed of nails on the floor.

“Hmm,” mused Goldinarc, “this must be a Martyr’s bedroom but there is no way I am sleeping on that.” She hitched up her skirt (and she never wore panties since she was such a slut) and peed over the bed of nails.

“Try sleeping with that pong!” laughed Goldinarc.

Goldinarc went to the third bedroom and pushed open the door to see a massive bed and inside of it lay seven small men.

“Oi!” shouted Goldinarc causing the dozing men to wake with a jolt.

“Aren’t you in the wrong story?” she asked as the bewildered little men all sat up and stared at her.

“Begging your pardon miss, we were just having a rest, we will be on our way right this moment and out of your story,” said one, a handsome fellow with shining eyes.

“Not so fast,” grinned Goldinarc as she closed the door behind her, “You are just what I have been looking for!”

“Please miss, we had best be getting back to our mistress, she will be worried about where we are,” remarked another of the men who had a carefully trimmed beard and a diamante ear-ring. The men started to move, trying to clamber out of the sumptuous bed.

“Oh I don’t think so,” cried Goldinarc, “I know who you are.”

Goldinarc then pointed at each of the little men as she called out their names.

“Soulmate! Angel! Light of my life! Flower in bloom! The One! Saviour! My True Love!”

As she said each name, the little men each became transfixed, a loving and helpless look coming over their faces as they were ensnared by the charm of Goldinarc. Smiling, Goldinarc started to remove her dress as she made her way to the bed and the waiting little men.

Some time later Goldinarc lay in the centre of the bed surrounded by the exhausted little men all of whom had fallen asleep once again, drained of their fuel. Goldinarc was asleep also, a smile of contentment plastered on her lips, her golden hair spread out across the pillow as she slept the sleep of the righteous.

Meanwhile, the Three Empaths, Honesty, Decency and Integrity, had arrived home at their cottage after a day of assisting at the soup kitchen, collecting for an orphanage charity and feeding stray animals on the streets of a nearby town. They were jolly hungry after their charitable exertions and made straight for the kitchen.

“Goodness me, someone has thrown my Pauper’s Broth, on the floor,” remarked Honesty.

“Goodness me, someone has thrown my Cabbage Soup, on the floor as well,” remarked Decency.

“Goodness me, someone has eaten up all my Buddha Jumps Over the Wall and smashed my bowl! And bent my spoon! ” said Integrity.

They made their way to the living room in search of clues as they were all truth seekers.

“Oh my, someone has smashed my Virtuous Yet Useless Stool,” cried Honesty.

“Oh my, someone has shredded the cushion on my old comfy chair and torn huge tears in my armchair!” cried Decency.

“Oh my, someone has etched the name Goldinarc into my throne, who would do such a thing?” declared Integrity.

“Someone called Goldinarc, just a guess,” said Honesty quietly.

In search of the vandal, the Three Empaths went upstairs.

They reached the first bedroom.

“Oh heaven to Betsy,” cried Honesty as she looked in on her overturned bed and trashed bedroom, “the Feng Shui has been desecrated!”

They reached the second bedroom.

“Sweet Jesus and the baby orphans,” cried Integrity as she smelt the ammonia of Goldinarc’s urinary insult, “my room stinks!”

They reached the third bedroom and tentatively pushed the door open to see the naked Goldinarc surrounded by the seven naked little men. Goldinarc awoke instantly and stared at the Three Empaths.

“Poor thing, she has no room at all with all those dwarves hogging the bed,” cried Honesty.

“Poor thing, she will catch a chill without some night clothes,” cried Decency.

“Poor thing, judging by the looks on those dwarves’ faces, they have stolen her innocence,” cried Integrity.

“Damn right!” cried Goldinarc seizing the moment and putting her hands to her face in mock horror, “these evil little bastards poured soup on the floor, smashed a bowl, broke a chair, ripped up a cushion, shredded an armchair, vandalised the throne, trashed a bedroom, pissed on another bed and then dragged me in here when I tried to stop them wrecking the complete cottage and had their wicked way with me. Help me, please!”

And so it came to pass that the seven dwarves received jail time for an array of crimes and the Three Empaths took Goldinarc under their wing providing her with a steady stream of fuel, traits and residual benefits but nobody lived happily ever after……

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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64 thoughts on “Goldinarc and the Three Empaths”

  1. As my son would say to any fairy tale,
    ” That was a great story”
    Even if there wasn’t a happy ending.

    I was dying as she peed on the bed of nails and I didn’t know you were considered a slut if you went without panties. Lol

    You have the best imagination HG.
    I can picture every scene that you wrote and I was so engulfed in the story.

    You stole my dwarves from me.

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      1. I did enjoy having a bedtime story HG.
        Maybe that will be a 2017 trend.
        Looking forward to the series.

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  2. Bahahahahaha you have outdone yourself with this one! And sweet baby Jesus,-Dolly Parton is confirmed an Empath.

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  3. This story had me howling!! I literally burst out laughing at this part: “She hitched up her skirt (and she never wore panties since she was such a slut) and peed over the bed of nails.”

    You have a wicked sense of humour about all this. It helps me maintain my own levity. This is a much appreciated piece with a good moral at the end 😏

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    1. Yeah, and not even that far-fetched … I had a narcissistic (lesser, somatic) narc lover once, to whom I not only behaved almost masochistic (not in bed but emotionally) who actually did that: when he was pissed off with his ebay customers, who were always at fault of course, he pissed on their parcels before sending them. (No, of course I didn’t want to see him anymore after he told that.)

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  4. This is so creative, it had me on the edge of my seat throughout!
    Goldinarc is so reckless, impatient, uncontrolled, and promiscuous, perhaps a lesser narc lol! But as empaths, i assume the home owners’ hearts would feel for the dwarves too. They do not deserve jail time for being ensnared. They simply fell in love, although a little too fast!
    HG, is this fascinating, somewhat disturbing story your new year’s gift to us?

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  5. Thank you Mr. Tudor for that wonderful story! The picture is disturbing though. Was that your intent or am I seeing something?

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      1. Oh Mr. Tudor, you are so right! How do you put up with me??? I know it can’t be easy! Thank you for having such patience with me ❤❤❤

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  6. Very creative, HG Grimm!! 😀

    But Goldinarc was not as clever as she thought… and left her fingerprints on the spoon she bent and the knife she used to vandalise the throne. Also, an urine sample from the soiled bed of nails was taken to the lab and she was positively identified as the criminal. She was charged with vandalism and perverting the course of justice, and sentenced to 30 days of community service as well as to pay compensation to the seven dwarfs. She is working in the kitchen soup as we speak! 😉

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    1. Ha ha very good. Goldinarc successfully charmed the Court of Appeal by demonstrating that it was under duress that she was made to bend the spoon, use the knife and wee on the bed of nails and with the lead judge just happening to be Queen Wicked of Mirror, the dwarves were shafted.

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      1. Oh nooo, I’m checkmated by Mr. Tudor!! Again!

        I see, I need to step up my game in terms of editing skills (it is of course ‘soup kitchen’), and reasoning!! 😀 😀

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  7. Hahhaha oh wow HG, literally loved this – it’s up there as one my top favourites !!

    But what’s wrong with the world nowadays………

    ………….that a girl can’t just go around doing as she pleases and it end up happy ever after ?

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  8. “She hitched up her skirt (and she never wore panties since she was such a slut) and peed over the bed of nails.”- I nearly peed myself! 😂😂😂

    you are THE BEST AND MY FAVOURITE writer HG… not only Your metaphorical stories are always adequate and full of humor, but they are also Your dearest commitment: it looks like You spend a enormous amount of time on Your blog and that is so good. You put Yourself into that writing… it’s not a facade it’s this beautiful soul within You being exposed here bit by bit… You feel free here and that’s the way it should be. You are the only person waking up every possible emotion in me just by writing or talking….OMG In real life You must be like a jaguar chasing a calf…
    Magic always happens here. Since the very first post I’ve read Your blog fullfill my daily routine. It’s like You have a magic wand stirring inside my mind and my heart.
    And Yes, as in the story above, we always try to explain a person but that’s us … we can’t help it. It is close to impossible for us to change permanently and not being empaths or co-dependants… just as it for You. And I understand that fully now. You tought me well. thank You for Your writing, for Your books and mostly for exposing Yourself because I’ve never met such beautiful human being before. Its6an honor I will treasure till my last breath. …

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  9. ““Someone called Goldinarc, just a guess,” said Honesty quietly.”

    Good old honesty, always pointing out the obvious.

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  10. Stellar post with brilliant writing. I like how the very misogynistic undertones are shrouded by the use of humor.

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  11. Oh just what I needed!!! A good laugh for the new year! A female narcissist, nice switch. Tho that peeing, 😂 That is some serious marking of territory!! I can tell a Tom cat wrote that!!!

    Snow, he took your minions!!! I nearly died in laughter when I read he got the dwarfs!! I say tit for tat!! I’m eyeing the bears! Jail break? You?

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    1. I agree Indy!
      Yesterday was one of those rough days and I went to bed smiling and laughing thanks to this story. 😂
      I have had enough of female narcs! It would have been just like mine to cause such havoc. She always had people to blame and pick up the pieces of her mess. But mine always wore panties and never a skirt. Lol

      Can’t believe my dwarves ended up in jail. I fell for those names just like they did. I can send my birds to break them out Indy.

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      1. SNOW INDY and LOVE

        Do you think Snow Whites Dwarves and that fat bastard Santas Elves are one and the same? You never see them partying together.

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      2. I’m sorry you had a rough day, Snow.
        I can make a few calls to my souljas in the pen, and get yo boys out. 😉

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  12. Not to ruin the party, but it looks like that Buddah soup is a form of a shark fin soup…. Not very likely to be chosen by an empath, who is also the face of integrity. Just saying.

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  13. Awww!! Thanks Love. ❤️
    I appreciate it. Sometimes when the hurt and tears kick in it stays around for a few days. So grateful for your support.

    And thanks for the rescue😉
    I might be next😫

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    1. You are safe Snow! Empaths aren’t allowed in the slammer. All hell will break loose. The narcs will go to war for your very tasty fuel.

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      1. I know that my father read to me when I was very young – I do not remember it but he told me as such and so did my half-brother so I am inclined to believe that that happened. MatriNarc did not. My father taught me to read and once I was able to read, I was left to it and I gorged on all and any books I could find. I would read in bed, read in the bath, on the toilet, at breakfast (until told not to), in the garden, in my hiding places, anyway really. I read huge amounts and of course MatriNarc used this love of books against me by way of control. I borrowed books from the library, from friends, read books that belonged to other people in our home and saved up to buy them myself.

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      2. I would love to take my books and hide behind a huge bush in my parents yard! I would get lost in my books ( I still do) the characters came to life! At times I would be out side for hours! I remember my Mom calling for me when it would start to get dark. I would look up and not even realise a whole afternoon would of passed by. Lol. Found memories. Thank you HG!

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      3. FM1T

        Thank you for that memory. I loved books. As a child I loved everything about them- the weight of them in my hand, the smell, the escape…. I used to go to a toy store downtown and go straight to the beautiful (haha faux leather) books with gold writing on them. They were the most beautiful things to me. Little Women, Moby Dick, David Copperfield, Treasure Island. I wanted to own them all, so I got a paper route and saved up until I could buy one, then another. I collected a few and guarded them away from the other kids, careful not to crack the spines while holed up somewhere escaping. Now I want to read them again. Such sweet memories. Thank you.

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      4. I taught myself to read at 5 yrs old … had records for the fairy tales though. My grandfather told me stories …

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