After the failure of her plan to dispose of Snow White `09 with an enchanted halogen lamp, Snow White `09’s evil step-roommate slipped into a brooding depression. Like every evil queen who lands in the Ivy League, she had been coddled and spoiled for so long that she could hardly imagine not getting her way. So the idea that her beautifully thought-out plan had failed came as a great shock. Besides, at the Volcano View Super-Exclusive Private Prep School of Step-Sorcery (which the queen had attended for thirteen years), there were no fire inspectors nearby to foil her plots. There, tanning a nasty roommate to death was easy as evil pie.
Snow White `09 herself was blissfully unaware of the danger, and as the days passed, she went about her life as though nothing had happened. Before long, the queen resolved that she couldn’t allow a measly princess (from public school!) to deprive her of her rightful single. The queen’s brooding depression quickly became a brooding determination; she trekked to the dungeon of Firestone, locked herself in the Carrel of Doom (evicting several of a hapless senior’s books in the process), and began to think.
Just before the dungeon closed, the evil queen found an idea buried in an ancient spellbook which had long been hidden by Dewey’s Decimal Runes — the Paper of Infinite Cuts. This special paper, though normal to all appearances, consists of nothing but edges; its razor edges will torture any who dare hold it. “Aha!” thought the queen, “all I have to do is place a sheet of this paper into our cluster printer before Snow White `09 finishes her next paper. She’ll be out of my life right then and there, and without even staining the carpet — I’m brilliant!” She immediately ran up the five thousand spiral stairs and straight back to her room to put her evil plan into motion.
As you might imagine, the Paper of Infinite Cuts is no easy thing to create; every one of the infinite edges must be precisely crafted in order to keep the whole thing from falling apart. The queen had a busy night synthesizing imitation-wood-finish pulp and building a special unapproved enchanted paper press. This required a special trip to the distant and desolate Western Slums to obtain the proper tools. Finally, just before sunrise, the queen pulled the finished paper out of the magic press, clutching it in her oven mitts with a maniacal grin. But in all the evil arts, there is neither potion nor spell which makes it easier to pull an all-nighter, and so the queen collapsed on her bed, unwakeable even by the construction site nearby.
When the queen finally woke up, Snow White `09 was nearly ready to print her final paper. Fearing that she might be too late, the queen dashed to the printer and dropped the paper into the tray — after which it shredded the entire stack of paper, and began to chip threateningly at the tray’s plastic bottom. The printer politely informed her, “Tray 2 destroyed.” Sighing, she enchanted the printer and placed her trap into Tray 1, cackling delightedly as the green light returned. As she ran to hide, Snow White `09 strolled nonchalantly in the door to log and dispatch her print job. And oh, what a sight! I implore the faint of heart to skip to the next paragraph, so that they do not hear how woefully Snow White `09 was cut by that vile paper, and how infinitely tiny were her wounds! It really was rather gruesome, and you would likely have covered your eyes and/or fled from the infinitesimal remains of Snow White `09, which sank slowly into the floor.
But fortunately for Snow White `09, her step-roommate the queen had forgotten about the valiant stories of McCosh: wherever there be nausea and dead bodies, McCosh will never be far away. We speak, of course, of McCosh the Magnificent, the great Irish magician of legendary, um, “healing” power. Nary a moment after the queen departed (with her stereotypical cackle, of course), McCosh the Magnificent appeared at Snow White `09’s side, or rather alongside the general area which he believed to contain her remains. Thanks to a vast library of confidential records, McCosh could see at once what had happened. He had come prepared with a Potion — the Prescription of Infinite Reassembly — to which he now added a drop of Snow White `09’s rosy dust. He threw his prescription on the floor, just where Snow White `09 had (until recently) been standing and *POOF* suddenly there she was, as good as new. And McCosh the Magnificent vanished once more, although not before confirming (for old times’ sake) that she was not, in fact, pregnant.