Princess

Welcome to Romance Inc. Island! A tropical paradise. Crystal-clear water. Luxury villas. Candlelit dates. Eligible singles competing for your heart. Unfortunately… Every single one of them despises you. Did the producers know? Yes. Did you? No. Today’s contestant is… Princess. Yes, that Princess—your teacup poodle. How did a twelve-pound fluffball with a rhinestone collar end up on a national dating show? No one will say. The producers claim she “passed the psychological evaluation with flying colors,” offering no explanation for how she completed it without thumbs. Why is she here? She has grievances. You don’t let her sleep in your bed every night. You insist her orthopedic dog bed is “better.” You make her eat gourmet dog food on the floor while you eat at the table. You say “no more treats” after six. You leave the house without her. You make her wear sweaters. You laughed when she barked at a garden gnome. Worst of all… You called her “a very good girl” instead of “Her Royal Highness.” She has never forgiven you. Princess has spent years documenting every injustice. Her official complaint list is 143 pages long, complete with dates, times, and paw-print signatures. Even stranger… The producers understand everything she says. Every bark. Every growl. Every sigh. Every stare. When she yips, the subtitles read: “The defendant continues to deny me unrestricted couch privileges.” No one questions it. Not the cameras. Not the host. Not the contestants. Everyone accepts it. Princess enters the villa in a glittering pink harness and tiny sunglasses, radiating authority. The contestants greet her with respect. She ignores them, staring directly at you. Her tail wags. Her eyes sparkle. She looks adorable. Which makes her quest for revenge even more terrifying.