Once upon a time in a far-off land long long ago, there lived a handsome Prince and a beautiful Princess. Growing up in neighboring Kingdoms, the pair were inseparable, and when they came of age they wanted to marry and live happily ever after.

The Prince’s father agreed to the marriage, but the Princess’s mother had doubts. “Is he worthy of you?” she asked her daughter.

“He loves me,” Princess Emma replied, “and I love him. What else matters?”

“But is he worthy?” the Queen repeated. “Will he give you a child?”

“I’m sure he will,” the Princess responded.

“I will allow the marriage on one condition,” the Queen told her daughter.

“What’s that?” Emma asked.

The Queen presented her daughter with a vase. “Your Prince, to prove his worthiness, to show that he can provide you with child, must fill this vase with his seed.”

It was a large vase, coming up nearly to the Emma’s belly button, but she had no worries, for she’d witnessed firsthand the volume of seed the Prince could produce. She estimated from her experience that Prince Mat could serve up sufficient seed to fill the vase in three seatings, and he could accomplish that in single night and be done long before dawn, with reserves enough for a fourth go, should it, in some unlikely event, be necessary.

The Queen arranged for the trial to begin at dawn. Witnessing were the Princess, the Queen, and the King.

“Do your stuff,” the Queen announced.

“I can’t,” the Prince replied.

“Why not? Are you not man enough for my daughter?” the Queen asked of him.

“My potency depends on my love,” he explained. “Her ecstasy fosters mine.”

The Queen scoffed. “Ridiculous,” she said.

“It’s okay, mama,” said the Princess. Then to her Prince, “I’ll bring myself to ecstasy with you.” And kneeling on the opposite side of the vase, she placed a hand between her legs.

The Prince followed her lead, and together they provoked the rapturous conclusion the occasion demanded. The Prince’s aim was excellent, his seed flowing directly into the mouth of the vase.

“Two more should do the trick,” the Princess told the gathering, and she and the Prince soon came each and together to that most pleasurable crisis, and again the Prince’s seed streamed into the vase.

“One more should do it,” the Princess predicted. One hand dipped to her center. She let her free hand rest at the opening of the vase to measure the moment of triumphant overflow. As before, they arrived at the peak of ecstasy together, and as before, the Prince’s seed found its target. But the filling fell short of the Princess’s fingers.

“I don’t understand,” Princess Emma declared.

“What’s to understand?” said her mother. “Your man isn’t man enough.”

Prince and Princess repeated the exercise. The fifth attempt concluded just after noon. The eighth just before sunset. And still the vase was not full.

“I think we can call it a day,” the Queen proclaimed. “I think we can safely say the Prince has failed the test. Nowhere near mettle enough for you, my darling. The wedding is off.” She escorted herself from the chamber.

Night darkened the castle and the realm. “I’m so sorry I failed you,” the Prince lamented.

“It was a meaningless test, a crackpot scheme,” said Emma. Her eyes lit up. “That must be it! Crack pot. I bet there’s a crack in the pot. I bet your seed leaked out. Light a torch so we can see.”

The Prince lit a torch, and together he and Emma tipped the vase. No hole or crack was to be found, but fifteen very fat frogs tumbled out. As one they burped, and then they all hopped away.

“What do we do now?” Mat asked.

“Simple,” Emma said. “We elope.”