Our story takes place long ago in the Land of Impulsive Decisions. It is the evening of Prince Siegfried’s 21st birthday, and he’s celebrating with his tutor, friends, and some peasants. Remember when your parents made you invite your entire class to your birthday parties? It’s like that.
The soirée is a real rager – or at least as fun as a party can be when your teacher is there – until Siegfried’s mother shows up. The Queen is concerned about Prince Siegfried’s carefree lifestyle and refusal to, you know, grow the hell up. That said, Prince Siegfried’s dad just died, so the Queen is hoping that a) his grief is contributing his jackassery, and b) a super fun birthday party might help him snap out of it.
Like any good mother trying to compensate for a child’s loss, the Queen gives Siegfried an extra-special birthday gift: a crossbow. Because giving an immature and somewhat depressed ninny a piece of dangerous weaponry makes perfect sense.
Siegfried is pretty excited about his new toy, so the Queen figures it might be a good time to mention that he has to get married. Like, this week. Siegfried is all: WHAT? Mom, no! And the Queen is all: Oh, it’s happening.
The Queen tells Siegfried that he must pick his bride from a pile of girls she has invited to a ball the next evening. It’s basically a buffet-style arranged marriage. Prince Siegfried was hoping to marry for love – and spend a loooooooong time looking for it – so he’s pretty disappointed.
Unable to convince his mother that throwing a Betrothal Ball is the worst idea ever, Siegfried throws a hissy fit and runs into the forest with his friends. This is, of course, the most sensible way to deal with your fear of commitment. Throw in the chance of accidentally shooting one of your pals with your new crossbow? Epic dealing.