"Halloo Princess. It is I, your prince, come at long last to rescue you from your elevated prison."

"Sorry mate, I think ya've got the wrong place... Acshully, if ya could see ya way clear t' givin' me a hand gettin' down, I'd 'preciate it"

"Nay Princess. 'Tis you I have come for."

"Again, I'm not a princess, but if ya'd help me out, I'd owe ya one."

"Aye Princess. There is nothing I would not do to win your favour. Stand clear, Dearest Heart. I shall ascend the tower that I may kneel at your feet."

"Seriously mate, if ya'd chuck us a rope, I'll just climb down."

"Nay, My Love.Wait but a moment and I will be at your side. It would not do for you to risk your beautiful neck, or soil your dainty hands."

Steve steps away from the window.

"Geez. This bloke is in f'r one hell of a surprise."

A grappling hook latches onto the sill of the window. It takes only a moment before the top of the princes head appears in the window.

"Here mate, let me lend ya a hand."

"Nay, nay My Sweetest Love. Do not let your heart be filled with worry. Let it rest content in the knowledge that I am here to protect you. Or, if you must fill it with emotion, fill it with love for me, as mine is filled with love for you."

Steve goggles at the young man in front of him.

If he is in an asylum... well this guy definitely belongs here. If he's not... Steve stands by the previous statement.

"Uh, mate, I'm sure ya're a great guy an' all, but ya not really my type."

"Oh Princess, your wit is matched only by your beauty."

"Look pal, I'm not sure what ya angle is, but ya barkin' up th' wrong tree."

"My Princess, your manner of speech is most strange... but enchanting!"

The prince drops to one knee, kisses Steve's hand, then clutches it to his chest. With a look of adoration, the prince gazes into Steve's troubled eyes.

"Ya seem like a good kid an' all, but I'm just not interested."

Steve struggles to free his hand from the prince's grip.

"But you said you wished to troth to me!"

"What? No I didn't! When'd I say that?"

"You addressed me as your mate. Why else would you speak thusly to me if you did not wish marriage."

"Wha'? Nahnahnah. Where I'm from, mate is just what ya call a bloke if ya're bein' friendly, ya know? Like, a way t' show ya not gonna cause trouble, or what-have-you."

"Oh Princess! I forgot how long it has been since you have spoken to another. I fear the isolation has caused you some confusion."

"Me confused! Listen Pal, I'm not th' one who can't tell th' diff'rence b'tween a woman, and a bloke in a dress!"

"We will make haste to the castle. I am certain that when you are once again in familiar surroundings, you will regain your senses."

"Alright, fine. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Come Princess, I will carry you from this bower, and we will away at once."

The prince attempts to lift Steve.

"What the fuck!?"

The prince fails.

"I fear the climb must have tired me more than I had anticipated. If I could rest but a short time-"

"Ya can take ya time ma- uh bud, but I'm out."

Steve unhooks the rope from the windowsill and attaches it to the loop formerly used to hold back the curtains. A quick test proves it will hold.

"So ya wanna rest or ya wanna come with? I can carry ya down if ya need me to. Ya'd only be a coupl'a years older than my Kassie I reckon, and prob'ly wouldn't weigh much more."

"Your... Kassie?"

"Yeah, my oldest. A good girl mostly. Got a bit of a mouth on her but she does us proud."

"You... have a sister?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"Then I will hasten to reunite you."

"Alright then. Let's get a move on."

The prince starts towards Steve, but Steve is already at the window. He hitches the skirt up, anchors the rope around his waist, and starts down the side of the tower. The prince follows suit.

"My Dear, that was a most accomplished feat."

"Well yeah. When ya spend as much time on scaffolding as I do, ya wanna be good with ropes an' stuff."

The prince cast a concerned look at Steve.

"Do not fret Dear-heart. I will soon return you to your castle, where I am certain the good wizard will cure whatever ails you."

"Suuure. We'll just follow th' yellow brick road, an' th' wizard will get me back t' Oz."

The prince looks at Steve blankly for a moment before collecting himself.

"Certainly My Love. Let us tarry no more as your people eagerly await your return."

With that the prince leaps atop the horse who was peacefully grazing nearby.

"Come My Love, we will away at once, astride my noble steed."

"Yeah-nah. I don't think that nag's gonna get far with both'f us. If ya wanna just point me in th' right direction?"

"Nonsense My Heart. Charles is a thoroughbred stallion who's lineage goes all the way back to DelRubé the first, favoured mount of King Oslan of Terrelan. He can most certainly carry you, My Waif-like Love."

"I'm not sayin' he's not a first class brumby. I'm sayin' that th' two'f us t'gether is gonna be too much f'r him over any real distance. May as well save his strength."

"Oh Sweetest Princess, does your compassion know no end? You are surely the fairest in all the lands."

"Yeah alright, so which way do we go?"

"We follow the East Path through the Green-woods of Dalemoor. It is a long and circuitous route, but by far the safest."

"How long's that gonna take?"

"Afoot? A week mayhaps."

"A week!? Isn't there a faster way?"

"Well yes. The South Road. It is inadvisable to travel that path though. It leads through the Dark-woods and the Trinity Water. It has perils that your tender heart could not begin to comprehend. The East Path is well maintained and contains more splendour than any one eye should behold... Though it could never compare to your beauty."

"How much faster is it?"

"Pardon My Love? I do not understand your inquiry."

"How long would it take on th' South Road?"

"If we survive? We would be there in three days, but as I said-"

"Three days? I reck'n we can do it in two. Let's push off."

With that Steve starts off, the prince gabbing wildly behind him.

"Yeah, ya should really save ya breath. Ya gonna need it if we're gonna keep up this pace."

They head into the dark woods.

"Ya wouldn't have any spare boots or some trackies in ya pack, would'ya?"

"Trackies?"

"Yeah, trackie-dacks. Tracksuit pants."

At the princes still confused look, Steve tries one last time.

"Trousers."

"Nay, but what issue have you with my current garb?"

"Never mind. Wouldn'ta fit me anyway."

"My Love-"

The prince is soon winded as he lags behind Steve. A bemused Charles follows closely after him. Looking over his shoulder, Steve takes in his new entourage.

"He he, Charlie Horse."

"What- was that- Dearest?"

"Not important. Keep up."