From The Silent One
I'm sure you remember me. Everyone remembers me--they just don't bother to think about me at all besides acknowledging my presence. After all, what else is there to remember about a dwarf named Dopey except the fact he's there?
And therein lies the problem. You think just because I don't talk I'm an idiot? I'm not stupid; in fact, I'm smarter than all those others put together. You think Doc is our fearless leader but trust me, I was not following him by any means--he simply happened to be a vehicle in my plans and therefore I contented myself with associating with him and the rest of the dwarves. Honestly, why else would I even attempt to tolerate their wide range of emotional and physical disorders otherwise?
I always knew one day I would get my break, my opportunity to move myself up in life. But I also knew I would have to be patient, so I played the part of the silly mute. This was extremely good at getting the other dwarves to leave me to my own devices. It also helped me to secretly gather a fortune in precious jewels which I regularly nicked and sold for insane prices in order to enlarge my private Swiss bank account.
Then, one day, she appeared. A radiant vision of beauty on our front doorstep. My plans for disappearing with my fortune were suddenly put on a standstill; slowly, those plans were rewritten in order to accomodate a partner. Soon I was not buying a small private island for myself, but for a goddess with raven hair and milk white skin. Her kindness and warmth was always directed solely toward me in my eyes. I was so foolish, so blind. But I enjoyed being blinded for a little while. I enjoyed toying with the thought that someone could perhaps truly understand a creature so shrewd and devious as I. And in time I enjoyed believing that thought. But, ah, how swift and cruel the tides can be when it comes to changing.
The seemingly flawless young woman dashed my hopes and dreams with a single flick of her wrist. I was outraged, enfuriated. She had shot me down completely, had refused to believe anything I had attempted to say to her in privacy. She had been a very stupid girl.
It wasn't long before my buyers leaked information that our Queen was looking for a girl by the name of Snow White. A plan almost instantly hatched in my head, and I arranged a meeting with her Majesty straight away. The Queen was quite generous with her rewards for the information, and it wasn't even a week before I came home with the other dwarves to find White collapsed in our kitchen. I was torn at the sight before me--part of me was delighted at the revenge that was extracted, but another, smaller part had to acknowledge she had been the only one to ever thaw a part of me, and her absense in this world would hurt me in some fashion. Playing the grieving friend wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be.
In the end, when Prince Charming arrived with his dashing and roguish charm, and swept Snow White away to her happy ending, I could not decide how I felt. I thought the Queen had been immensely stupid in not just killing her in the first place. I also wondered just who decided that verbs and nouns were appropriate names for their children. But I knew I had to bury the Snow White hachet and get on with my life.
So, yes, that's why you've found me here in the Virgin Islands. As soon as she had left with her prince, I packed my bags, bought a first class ticket on the Concord to the United States and set sail for the tropics from there. And, to be honest? I couldn't care less for Snow White now. I've decided I like tans better, anyway.