“Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to come up with six words before the first winter snow falls, that best represent the maiden which you believe the Prince should marry,” the herald took in a sharp breath before rolling the scroll.

“Is that it?” a voice from the peasants rose above the murmur.

The herald frowned and opened the scroll, re*reading* quickly. His lips moved silently, as his eyes moved side to side.

He looked back out on the crowd and took another deep breath. Then he shrugged one shoulder.

“No,” he said almost apologetically. “There is a list of words that you may not use. And they are as follows: cheating, pregnant, drunk, and pyromaniac.”

Before the anticipation of the crowd could grow, the herald cleared his throat, and pulled a parchment from his sleeve.

“The Prince has requested that the list of words be submitted in the form of classy porn, and should include the words, sex, lesbian, bisexual and … gargoyle.”