Every Rose Has its Thorn

Gather round, children dear. It's story time. This is the story of a Princess named Rose.

Well, at least she expects everyone to treat her like a princess.

Rose was the new girl in our ward last winter. She was very exotic looking and had magazine ads she'd modeled for. She was always at church, so it came as a surprise to me to learn from her roommates that she wasn't a member of the church. They said she'd taken the missionary discussions several times and had a testimony but had never made it all the way to baptism.

Then Wiggle and her roommate Heather Angela Hawks moved into the ward. They first met Rose at FHE. Right after the activity, Heathen came up and whispered something to me. "See that girl right there? That's a man."

Wiggle had overheard. "YES! Thankyou! I had been thinking that same thing!" It was funnier coming from Wiggle because she's not from the San Francisco Gay Area.

My first reaction was incredulity. I looked at her. There definitely could have been an Adam's apple there. And she definitely didn't seem to have any hips to speak of. And her hands were almost as big as mine...

But no. There's no way, right? Time went on, and there was further evidence. Rose had been swimming with us a few times, but had never undressed. Kinda strange considering she was a model. She would show her belly, but never any cleavage. Several friends swore they saw a bulge in her pants on a few different occasions. Then there was the voice. And the mannerisms. Rose didn't act like a woman; she acted like a drag queen.

When the beginning of summer came, several of the guys decided to go camping. Rose came, and brought her freshman boyfriend, Ian. We were beside ourselves. This was our opportunity to be with Rose for several days, during which time she wouldn't have an opportunity to shave. If she grew facial hair, we would know by the end of this trip.

Camping with Princess Rose was hell. She kept making unreasonable demands. She also refused to just go into the woods to pee. She insisted on cooking everything, but had no idea how to cook outdoors. We had to drive her back into town to use a port-a-potty just to get her to shut up.

It seemed worth it, though. By the end of the trip, Rose's face was darker. But not dark enough. Maybe we'd been attacking a girl who was actually just suffering from some sort of disease.

Our suspicions were rekindled one day at my house. I'd made dinner for several people, including Rose. I was in the living room bemoaning the fact that we men have to shave every day in order to attend BYU. I said I wished I could just get electrolosis done on my face, and wondered aloud how much that would cost. Rose's slithery voice came from the kitchen: "$250. And you have to get it done like three times. And even then it still comes in very thin." You should have seen the crazy looks we were exchanging in the living room.

I went away to efy. Had the time of my life. When I got home, I learned that Rose had been baptised. That was a little unsettling, but it was beyond my control.

Still, we wondered whether she was really a man. It seemed even more important now that Rose was doing baptisms for the dead and taking the sacrament every week. Heathen asked the 100 Hour board for advice. Misaneroth suggested that if we could get a cell sample, we could check for Barr bodies and thus determine her sex. The problem was how to get a cell sample.

After a few fruitless efforts, we decided to just let it go for a while.

Well, soon after that, Rose asked Wiggle if she could move into their house. Heathen objected, so Wiggle got to bear the bad news. But Wiggle also told Rose that she could store her belongings at their house.

As soon as Rose had moved it all in, Black, BamaBeau, and Heathen decided to go rummaging through the boxes. And they struck gold. Soon, BamaBeau had brought me a photocopy of Rose's driver license. I mean, um, Ross' driver licence. That's right, folks. Her name was Ross, and right next to the word "sex" and a little colon was a big fat capital letter "M." And that stands for Man.

Gravy's fiancee took a copy to the bishop. The bishop said that Rose had moved away, and that there wasn't really very much we could do about the situation.

You'd think that's the end of the story, but no, it's not.

A few nights ago, Asmond and I ran into the house to get something late at night. J-Dawg, my roommate, was sitting up in his undies playing the guitar by himself. "Oh, hey," he said calmly. "I ran into an old friend of mine at a party tonight. A girl I've known for a while and hung out with and stuff."

Why was he saying this?

He continued, "I told her that we had a copy of her driver's license at our house and that I'd find out why and let her know."

Crap.

Anyway, the other roommates filled J-dawg in as soon as they left the party. They said that Rosse was definitely uncomfortable about the situation. J-Dawg felt pretty foolish, too.

Wherever Rosse is now, werf definitely knows that there's a copy of her license floating around. And she knows it says "M." And she knows where she left the original. I don't know what's going to happen next, but I know I don't want to be there when she comes for her stuff.

The end.