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Here is my story for this month's Writing Challenge. Thank you to Marisa for introducing us to the Great Storymaking Tool. This story uses words and phrases found with #38.  

The Last Laugh

Once upon a time there was a prince named James. James hated being part of the royal family, so he ran away with some gypsies from his hometown.

The gypsies were bored one day, so they stole a speedboat from the local marina. It was supposed to be a simple pleasure cruise, but something went terribly wrong. The engine died, and they had no paddles.

James worried for a few moments, until he remembered that he was a prince!
"Fear not," he said to the other gypsies. "I shall call my father, the king. He shall send out a rescue team at once."

The other gypsies on board laughed when they heard James speak. Nobody used words like "shall" in their group unless they were telling fortunes. 

"But how are ya gonna call him?" the only female gypsy asked, for she had dropped her iPhone into the ocean when she jumped into the boat. None of the other gypsies (not even the prince) had thought to bring a phone. 

Suddenly another boat appeared in the distance. The gypsies jumped up and down, and made as much noise as they could, until the boat began to approach.

When the fishing boat came within shouting distance, the gypsies noticed there was only one man on board.

"You must help us!" Prince James demanded. "Our engine died, and we need to get ashore."

"That's a lovely boat you've got," the fisherman replied. "It is almost as nice as mine," he bragged. "Wherever did you find it?"

The female gypsy flashed the fisherman a smile, which wasn't as bright as it should have been since she hadn't brushed in years.

"It's my father's boat," she lied. "My father – the king."

"The king of what?" the fisherman laughed, for he knew very well that the king had no children other than a son who had run away to join a band of good-for-nothing gypsies. He recognized this woman at once, for she had read his fortune recently in the town square. You shall have the last laugh, the gypsy had said.  

"The king of the land!" the gypsy sputtered, for she didn't want to say the wrong king.

"And what, may I ask, is a princess doing in the middle of the ocean with all of these gypsies? Can't you call home?"

"I've been kidnapped," the female gypsy said, for she was running out of ideas. "They have stolen my phone!" she pointed at the men behind her.

The fisherman laughed. "I'm afraid I don't have a phone either," he said, "for mine was stolen just last week in the town square."

"What a pity," the female said.

"Even though I can't fit all of you in my boat, I think I could be of some help," he added.

"Great!" the female gypsy said. She let out a big sigh of relief and waited to be invited onboard.

The fisherman grabbed an old toothbrush that he used to polish his boat, and tossed it to the gypsy. "It looks like you need this more than I do," he said, flashing his pearly whites. "You'll want to look your best when you're rescued by the king."