“Disney CEO Bob Iger Says Writers and Actors Are Not Being ‘Realistic’ With Strikes: ‘It’s Very Disturbing to Me’” – Variety
Ever since I married Cinderella’s father I’ve only ever asked her to cook and clean and obediently serve myself and her stepsisters. But is she happy meekly toiling away at endless chores while we live the high life? I dare say she is not. That ungrateful girl is constantly asking for free time to go to a ball, and God knows what else simply for doing all the domestic work we require. It’s as if she believes she is entitled to her share of her parents’ inheritance or at least some sort of recompense for her labor. Cinderella is simply not being realistic with her expectations, and it’s very disturbing to me.
When Cinderella’s father died, did I cast her out? I did not. In fact, I generously allowed her to remain in her home with me and her stepsisters as our servant. Far from being grateful for such a gesture, she has taken to bouts of sulking and despondence. She often pretends to be an obedient stepdaughter, cleaning the house from one end to the other when I demand it, but I can see in her defiant little eyes that she thinks I’m squandering her late father’s fortune. What she doesn’t understand is that I am the CEO (Chateau Executor and Owner) of her father’s estate. As the CEO, the buck stops with me, necessitating that I receive and control all the bucks. I am the one burdened with telling her where to clean and how hard. I have to make the hard decisions about whether something is clean enough or whether she needs to clean it more. Without someone like me taking the lead, this entire chateau would fall to ruin.
Cinderella somehow thinks she deserves more from life than just being my servant. The sweet fool is too naive to understand how the world operates. Just the other day, I caught her trying to sneak out to a ball in her late mother’s dress simply because all the local maidens were invited. The audacity! I justifiably tore her dress to shreds and confined her to the house to remind her how things work around here. Did she learn the lesson I so magnanimously tried to teach her? Far from it. She defied me and went to the ball anyway in hopes of wooing a prince. She must fancy herself some kind of human being deserving of a means to support herself. Can you believe such nonsense?
Now I hear the prince is searching for someone fitting the description of Cinderella. I hope the poor girl doesn’t get her hopes up. If she becomes some sort of princess who will be my servant? Who will do the chores around here? I suppose I could hire someone to do those things with all the money I inherited from her late father. It also probably wouldn’t affect my lifestyle whatsoever. But I don’t want to do that! Her and my happiness is somehow a zero-sum game and I will not allow her to achieve any measure of comfort or self-worth. For her own good. To preserve the status quo, or some such, you get the idea.
Now where were we? Oh yes, the business with the glass slipper. Do come in. I’m sure it will fit on one of my stepdaughters’ feet. Pay no mind to Cinderella. If she thinks there’s going to be a happy ending in this for her just because the public is on her side and it would be a just outcome she has another thing coming. Cruel stepmothers like myself are on top and we always will be. I’m just going to wait right here for this to be over and for her to come crawling back to me and apologize. Perhaps if I’m feeling merciful I’ll let her thanklessly return to her old chores.