"Now, let me get this straight, Dad.  I'm supposed to prick my finger and go into a coma?  Are you crazy?"
    "Yes.  I mean, not the crazy part.  The other part."
    "Let's pretend for a minute that this is possible.  Why would I be stupid enough to do it?  And why would you allow it?  You're the king!"
    "I'm sorry, Slipi.  It's part of the project.  There's nothing I can do about it."
    "What project?"
    "The S/B Project."
    "And who's the suit?"  Slipi turned in the direction of the new voice.
    "I'm the project manager," said the man in the business suit. "I'm Mr. Jones.  But my friends call me Mr. Jones."
    "What are you talking about?" Slipi's voice was beginning to break with frustration, not to mention disbelief.
    "Let me explain, Dear."  Slipi's mother broke in for the first time. "When your father and I decided we wanted to have a child, well, we haven't been entirely forthcoming to you about the facts of life."  The queen blushed.
    "Oh, Mom!  I know all about that..."
    "No, you don't," insisted the queen. "We never told you about charters and resources and project plans."
    "That's right," said the king. "Before we could have you, we had to get you chartered."
    "Chartered?"
    "We had to write up a justification and submit it to the Fairy Tale Board of Directors," the queen continued.  "Then they approved it and assigned a project manager."
    Mr. Jones smiled modestly.  "And then the fun began," he said.
    "Fun?" Slipi whimpered.
    "Oh, yes.  I had to request resources in accordance with the charter," explained Mr. Jones.
    "What's a 'resource?'" asked Slipi.
    "A 'resource' is an animated work unit," said Mr. Jones.
    "An ani ... You mean a human being?"
    "Could be a human being," said Mr. Jones. "We don't care about the human part, though.  Anyway, in this case, we're talking about fairies.  The charter specified intelligence, beauty, and longevity.  I needed three fairy units to fulfill the charter.  Then came the reorg."
    "Oh, the reorg!" moaned the queen.
    "What reorg?" asked Slipi.
    Mr. Jones sighed.  "In the old days, before the reorg, that is, Fairy Land was organized by Creature Type.  There was a Fairy Team, a Troll Team, a Dwarf Team, and so on.  So, if I wanted three fairies, I just went to the Fairy Team.  Then came the reorg.  Now, they were organized by specialization.  So, I had to request one resource from the Intelligence Team, one from the Beauty Team, and one from the Longevity Team."
    "Was that so bad?" asked Slipi, intrigued in spite of herself.
    "Bad?" said the king. "You should have seen the banquet honoring your birth.  Well, I guess you did see it."
    "What happened?" asked Slipi.
    "The first resource bestowed intelligence on you," said Mr. Jones. "That was ok.  Then the second resource bestowed beauty on you.  That was fine, too.  But then an awful thing happened."
    "Awful?" gasped Slipi.
    "That vindictive person!" said the queen.
    "Well, not exactly a person," said Mr. Jones. "She was a consultant.  From Evil Associates, Inc.  They wanted to bid on the project.  When we decided to do it in-house, they really got hacked off.  So, she waltzes in and puts a curse on you.  Prick a finger on a spindle at age 16 and die, she says."
    "Evil Associates?  They couldn't have gotten much business with a name like that," Slipi observed.
    "True enough," said Mr. Jones. "They changed it to 'EvilAccent!.'
    "Oh.  That's a whole lot better.  So, what happened then?"
    "Well, I had one resource left," said Mr. Jones. "Or so I thought.  'Hey, you can undo this,' I told her.  'I'd better ask my supervisor,' she said.  Her supervisor said no, the charter said she was supposed to give you longevity, not undo curses.  Then I went to the intelligence fairy and asked for her help.  And she said she had to ask her boss.  And the boss said, no, her job was done.  Charter said bestow intelligence.  She had bestowed intelligence.  End of story."
    "And the beauty fairy?"
    "Her boss said I needed to submit another request for resource to the Curse Amelioration Team."
    "Well, I blew my top," said the queen. "I said we were the clients, and we weren't getting what we'd paid for."
    "So, we finally compromised on the coma thing," said Mr. Jones.  "You see, that's why you have to prick your finger."
    "With all these people - I mean, resources - working for you, why couldn't you get what you wanted?" wondered Slipi aloud.
    "None of them work for me," sighed Mr. Jones. "All I'm responsible for is the project."
    "So, what authority does that give you?"
    "I got to pick the name: the S/B Project.  The Sleeping Beauty Project."
    "What's the slash for?" asked Slipi.
    "Nothing.  I could have gone with two characters, but all the neat projects have three," explained Mr. Jones. "So, ready to get pricked?"
    "I don't know.  How long do I have to stay in the coma?"
    "Prince Charming will be right along to wake you up with a kiss," said the king reassuringly.
    "I hate to bring this up," said Slipi, "but is that in the charter?"