Prolog:  Pew View


Mayor Mumphord Milquest of Duloc -- a nondescript, portly man 
who had made an art of the avoidance of controversy and 
advanced to his position through skillful sycophancy to the 
reining regent -- had seen much in his forty-five years.  And, 
as this province had a tendency, for some mysterious reason, to 
attract an unusual number of fairy-folk and their kin, he 
thought that there was little left that could surprise him.  
But the events of the past ten minutes had changed his mind.  
Now, as he nervously stood on the stage of a church, watching 
the passionate embrace of two ogres while he himself squirmed 
under the watchful glare of a protective dragon, he reflected 
on those incredible few minutes.
 
They had begun as he was watching the end of a royal wedding 
ceremony.  A surprisingly unostentatious event, especially 
considering that the groom was Lord Farquaad, a man not at all 
disinclined to pomp and ceremony.  Indeed, the chancel/stage 
area of the church where Farquaad and his bride stood with the 
priest was remarkably inornate.  The only other person to share 
the stage was the brawny and behooded Thelonious, the town 
executioner, who waited nearby, holding a pillow upon which sat 
the wedding rings.  (Milquest mused if it said something oddly 
profound about the institution of marriage that an executioner 
would be serving as best man.)  The only other objects on the 
stage were two three-foot podiums, upon which sat the couple's 
crowns, as Farquaad had ordered that the wedding ceremony be 
immediately followed by their official coronation as king and 
queen of Duloc.

Of course, much of this had been literally thrown together in 
just a few hours time.  Farquaad, the short-tempered, short-
mannered, and -- well, generally short authoritarian ruler of 
Duloc was taking the vows with a lovely young auburn-haired 
princess he had only met that day.  She had arrived in the 
province just that morning for the express reason of becoming 
Farquaad's bride and -- through the complex machinations of 
Dulocian law -- queen to Farquaad's king.  Milquest and the 
five members of the town council -- known as "Farquaad's rubber 
stamp" to their many detractors -- were introduced to her 
briefly a couple of hours before the wedding.  She had spoken 
almost none at all during the meeting, and, despite her 
stunning physical beauty, her eyes contained a sad, faraway 
look.  Her face bore an expression, not of a blushing bride 
making ready for her wedding, but rather more like a mourner at 
the funeral of someone she had dearly loved.
 
As two female attendants arrived to lead the princess away for 
her final dress fitting, Milquest had decided to try to coax 
some response from his future queen and make a positive 
impression for himself with Farquaad's new nominal partner.  So 
he had jovially ventured, "So, your Majesty, what do you think 
of your future kingdom?"
 
The princess had glanced out a nearby window at the perfectly 
neat, aligned, and organized streets, shops, and homes that 
made up the majority of the walled town, then shrugged and 
replied dully, "Very clean."  She had then turned and absently 
followed the attendants out of the room without another word, 
unconsciously leaving the parting bows of Milquest and the 
council unacknowledged.
 
That was some two hours before.  Some ten MINUTES before, 
during the wedding ceremony itself, she had, surprisingly, 
seemed even more distracted.  Even as the priest read the vows, 
she seemed to keep glancing out the window at the slowly 
setting sun.  She had even asked the priest to skip part of the 
ceremony itself, all the way to the I-do's.  A most peculiar 
occurrence, Milquest had thought at the time.
 
But the peculiarities hadn't really begun yet.  They really 
began just after the priest had officially pronounced the 
couple "husband and wife, king and queen," when the new queen 
leaned down to kiss her now royal husband.  At that point, the 
church doors burst open and in ran a large green ogre shouting 
"I OBJECT!" loud enough that the entire town could hear him -- 
even if nearly all of it HADN'T already been sitting in the 
church pews.  The ogre hurried down the aisle toward the 
newlyweds as Milquest and most of the other attendees rose to 
their feet, not sure what was going on.  The ogre's gait slowed 
as he neared the front of the church, as he apparently became 
more conscious of his surroundings.  Either that or he was 
becoming less certain of his resolve.

As the beast neared his own pew, Milquest could not only smell 
him, he recognized him.  He was the ogre that had a few days 
before also disrupted the competition Farquaad was conducting 
where various knights were vying to determine who would be the 
champion to storm the far-off castle where a fierce fire-
breathing dragon was keeping the princess prisoner.  Oddly, the 
resulting confrontation had ended with the ogre himself 
emerging as the champion.  And he had actually succeeded -- 
nobody knew just how -- in retrieving the princess and turning 
her over to Farquaad to be his bride.  Perhaps, Milquest mused, 
by disrupting the wedding the ogre now wished in like manner to 
supplant Farquaad as the groom.  The absurdity of his thought 
brought a half-smile to Milquest's face.

Milquest's smile faded as he looked back to the wedding pair.  
The new queen's eyes were fixed on the ogre, her face a mixture 
of surprise, anger, and -- something else Milquest couldn't 
quite place.   But Farquaad's face revealing nothing more than 
barely restrained outrage.  He briefly shifted his eyes off to 
the side of the church where they locked with that of a soldier 
wearing the dress uniform of Captain of the Guards.  Captain 
Horace Gledius, to be precise -- a relatively good-looking, 
well-built man.  Farquaad gave a quick, almost imperceptible 
nod before shifting his gaze back to the increasingly 
uncomfortable ogre, who had started awkwardly babbling 
something to the crowd about how he liked Duloc.  Gledius, in 
turn, made some subtle hand and head signals to guards 
stationed around the church.  The doors the ogre had just come 
in through were quietly closed, and other exits were likewise 
quickly and quietly sealed.

Milquest sighed as the ogre started to argue with the royal 
couple.  He actually felt sorry for the monster.  He hoped that 
whatever had prompted this brash act was worth it, for, barring 
some miracle, he was soon to pay for it with his life.  
Milquest actually winced in sympathy as the ogre openly accused 
Farquaad of marrying only so as to be king.  This was true, of 
course -- Milquest and the council already assumed this, 
knowing Farquaad -- but the ogre was not helping his case in 
pointing it out.  He was only either shortening what was left 
of his life, or extending his torture, depending on Farquaad's 
mood.  

Then there was another heated exchange between the ogre and the 
queen -- some na‹ve ramblings about "true love" -- and then the 
ogre sputtered into silence as Farquaad actually began to 
chuckle.  The new king then laughed outright, his loud, mocking 
voice carrying across the church as he said,  "The OGRE has 
fallen in LOVE with the PRINCESS!"

Farquaad signaled to a man holding a set of four-foot long cue 
cards, who dutifully and adroitly shuffled through the deck and 
then pulled out one labeled "Laugh."  He held it up and all the 
Dulocians, also dutifully, burst into laughter.  But for many, 
Milquest included, it was even more forced than most of the 
compulsory responses Farquaad demanded in his perfectly 
orchestrated little kingdom.  For the ogre was wilting under 
the barrage of mockery.  His head held low, even his trumpet-
like ears drooping, he was perhaps beginning to understand the 
tragic futility of his brash actions.  Milquest could almost 
feel his heart go out to the pitiful creature, and the mayor's 
eyes slid to the side of the church toward Gledius.  The 
captain was laughing heartily like everyone in the church -- 
save the queen and the ogre -- but the mirth did not extend to 
his eyes, which were cold and hard and fixed on the ogre.  
Gledius's hand rested upon the hilt of his sword.  It would not 
be long now.  He doubted Farquaad would have the ogre killed 
then and there -- it would be too unseemly -- but his end would 
no doubt come soon.

At Farquaad's curt signal the card was lowered, and the 
laughter quickly trailed to a stop.  God, Milquest hated being 
manipulated this way.  He felt like an automaton, like one of 
those insipid little singing puppets that Farquaad had placed 
by the town gates to welcome visitors. 

But the queen had not laughed.  She gazed upon the ogre with 
sympathy.  No, not just sympathy, but -- something more.  She 
asked him something in a soft voice that Milquest could not 
quite make out over the fading laughter, but before the ogre 
could reply Farquaad seized her hand, knelt before her and 
demanded that she kiss him so as to complete the ceremony and 
begin their "happily ever after."  He puckered his lips and 
closed his eyes -- which was just as well, as that way he 
didn't see the little scowl that crossed the queen's face as 
she looked down on her husband with new-found revulsion.  Then 
she said something else in a soft voice, this time apparently 
to herself -- something about night and day -- as she wistfully 
looked out the window at the last fading rays of the Duloc 
sunset.  Then, with sudden resolution, she pulled away from 
Farquaad and, with her eyes focused on the ogre, she backed to 
the window.

"I meant to show you before..." the beauty said to the beast.  
She offered an uneasy little smile, then closed her eyes and 
bowed her head.

Then Milquest gasped saw the -- cloud?  fog? -- begin forming 
around her.  It began at her feet and moved upward in a 
swirling motion, a bright luminous fog highlighted with the 
twinkling of lights.  Within that fog the outline of the queen 
could still just be made out -- but that outline was -- 
CHANGING.  It was growing wider -- taller.  Then, as quickly as 
it began, the fog lifted.  What it revealed, in place of the 
queen, was a broad-framed, green-skinned, pug-nosed, trumpet-
eared ogress.  

"Good Lord!" Milquest gasped, his voice blending in with dozens 
of other expressions of shock and bewilderment across the 
church.  Some women -- and a few men -- even fainted.
 
The ogress opened her still-blue eyes -- eyes that immediately 
locked on just one figure, that of the ogre.
She was apparently oblivious -- or was trying to be oblivious -
- to all other reactions.  She gave another tepid, self-
conscious little smile as she waited anxiously to see what he 
would do.
 
Milquest could only see the ogre's back from where he stood, 
but judging from the creature's body language he had been as 
dumbstruck as the other witnesses to the metamorphosis.  Then, 
shaking himself from his reverie, he stammered in an upbeat 
voice, "Well -- uuuh -- that explains a lot!"
 
Milquest had absolutely no idea what that meant, but it 
certainly seemed to satisfy the ogress.  Her anxiety 
immediately melted away, as if the worries and fears of a 
lifetime had been lifted from her shoulders.  She smiled warmly 
and lovingly at the ogre, and although Milquest couldn't see 
it, he somehow knew the ogre was doing the same to her.
 
But the ogress's features quickly changed yet again, this time 
to horror, as Farquaad finally registered his own reaction.
 
"Oh, it's DISGUSTING!" he spat, "GUARDS!  GUARDS!  I order you 
to get them out of my sight!  NOW!  Get them BOTH!"
 
A battalion of armored soldiers spilled out of the alcoves and 
made for the ogres.  Milquest looked to the side to see Gledius 
draw his sword and quickly direct which companies to attack 
which target.
 
"NO!" the ogress screamed, and rushed toward the ogre.  As she 
got near, she reached out desperately for him.  Dropping his 
guard, he reached out for her in return. Just before their 
hands could touch, dozens of arms seized the two of them and 
jerked them apart.  They continued calling each other's names 
as the soldiers pulled the struggling pair further away from 
each other.
 
"The bast--" Milquest began, but quickly bit his lip.  Yet he 
could tell from similar murmuring from around him that he was 
not the only Dulocian to feel his sympathies shifting to the 
"wrong side" in this little spectacle.  Farquaad's actions 
certainly didn't engender sympathy.  Enraged that his "perfect 
wedding" to his "perfect bride" had gone so awry, he ranted and 
stormed.  He seized the king's crown from its pedestal and 
angrily planted it upon his head.  Then he thundered at the 
struggling ogre of things he would do to make him beg for 
death.
 
Then Farquaad turned back to the ogress, who was also still 
struggling against the arms that held her, and still calling 
out the ogre's name.
 
"As for you, my 'WIFE'," he spat the word out in disgust, 
drawing his shortsword and holding the point up to just below 
her chin, silencing her, "I'll have you locked back in that 
tower till the end of your days!"

Despite an initial valiant resistance, the superior number and 
coordination of the soldiers had succeeded in steadily subduing 
the ogre to this point.  Now, however, as he saw Farquaad 
turning his wrath upon the ogress, he somehow summoned some 
great reserve of strength.  With a mighty heave he tossed off 
the solders that had been restraining his right arm.  Then he 
quickly placed two fingers in his mouth and let go a loud, 
high-pitched whistle.  Milquest and several others quickly 
plugged their ears.  The ogress stared about, puzzled as to the 
significance of the ogre's action.  Farquaad simply continued 
to rage.

"I WILL HAVE ORDER!   I WILL HAVE PERFECTION!  I WILL HAVE--"

No one ever found out the third item on Farquaad's wish list.  
At that moment the huge stained glass window directly above him 
burst inward and there, standing in its place, was a large, 
angry, pinkish-red dragon -- which, oddly, was wearing a large 
chandelier like some gigantic necklace.  Dulocians screamed in 
terror as the beast roared and scanned the scene below it, 
quickly sizing up the situation and characters involved.  
Farquaad, his expression a mixture of shock and indignation, 
looked up to see what had happened.  Then he screamed himself.  
It was a scream that was cut short as the dragon's head dove 
downward and unceremoniously seized Duloc's new king.  Then it 
reared back up, tossed him into its mouth, and swallowed him 
whole.  As it completed this maneuver yet another unlikely 
event occurred.  A donkey, which had apparently been clinging 
to the chandelier, scrambled up the dragon's neck and onto the 
top of its head -- then SPOKE.

"ALL RIGHT, NOBODY MOVE!  I'VE GOT A DRAGON HERE AND I'M NOT 
AFRAID TO USE IT!" he called out, then a moment later added, 
"I'M A DONKEY ON THE EDGE!"

Indeed, nobody seemed inclined to move as the dragon's luminous 
yellow eyes kept an alert watch on the crowd. Milquest glanced 
over at Gledius.  The captain was gazing up at the dragon, 
trembling in terror.  Milquest noted that he had even dropped 
his sword.  It lay by the foot of one of his armored legs -- 
along with a small but expanding little puddle of yellowish 
liquid that was seeping out of the leg armor.  Despite the 
situation, Milquest had a hard time suppressing a grin at that.

Just then the dragon gave a mighty burp, and Farquaad's crown 
came popping out of its mouth.  It bounced down the steps 
leading up to the stage, rolled to the side of the church and 
finally came to rest in the puddle by Gledius's foot.

"Celebrity marriages," the donkey joked, "they never last!"

Most Dulocians laughed at that, some because they felt they'd 
best play along, some because they genuinely found the quip 
funny, but most in relief.  It was beginning to dawn on them 
that maybe they wouldn't end up roasted and/or eaten after all.  
Milquest noted that there was even some applause scattered 
throughout the audience.

Then the donkey looked down at the ogre.  The soldiers had 
instinctively released him and the ogress with the dragon's 
dramatic appearance, and nothing now stood between the pair.  
The donkey's voice took on a more sensitive tone as he said, 
"Go ahead, Shrek."

A hush fell across the church as the ogre carefully took the 
few steps up to the stage where the ogress stood, her back to 
him where she had turned to look up at her liberators.

"Fiona..." he began, his voice soft and not entirely sure.

The ogress slowly -- tentatively -- turned.  She looked into 
his face, her deep blue eyes hopeful.  "Yes, Shrek?"

"I..." he began, hesitated for a moment, but then looked back 
into her beckoning eyes.  "I love you," he said with sudden 
resolve.

The ogress gave a little smile.  She appeared more hopeful, but 
still a vague doubt seemed to linger.  "Really?" she asked him, 
almost whispering.

"Really, really," he said with comforting certainty.

She took a moment to read his face, and her last doubts 
vanished.  "I love you, too," she said tenderly.

As the two melded together for the inevitable kiss, Milquest 
actually felt his eyes begin to mist.  He had not thought this 
was possible.  His cynicism ran long and deep.  Love like this 
MIGHT be true in some fairy tale, he thought, but even those 
fairy tale romances he had witnessed he had found somehow 
wanting and superficial.  But there was just something so -- so 
pure, so wonderfully elemental and innocent in the expressions 
of love he had just witnessed from these two -- beasts?  
Perhaps he was getting overly sentimental in his middle age.  
Yet he was hardly alone, as he heard a number of restrained 
sobs from the other Dulocians.  Then, to the side of the stage, 
Thelonious seized one of the large cue cards and quickly 
scribbled something on it.  He turned it around to the 
audience.  "Aawww" it read, and most of the Dulocians gladly 
gave voice to the expression.  And this time it didn't sound 
forced.

Then that shimmering cloud returned with a vengeance.   At 
first the couple didn't notice it as it began swirling about 
the ogress, so lost were they in their own reality.  But then 
the ogress found herself being pried away from the embrace by 
the anomaly.  She briefly reached back for him, her eyes wide 
with surprise as she was actually lifted into the air and 
slowly began to spin in synch with the cloud's swirl.  But then 
her eyes closed and she seemed to lapse into some sort of 
almost trance-like state as the brightening and expanding cloud 
surrounded her and she herself began to glow.  Then odd rays of 
light began beaming outward from her, the brightness becoming 
so intense that Milquest and the others had to shield their 
eyes.  Some of the shimmering sparkles emanating from the 
expanding cloud actually began falling among the attendees in 
the front rows; a couple bounced off Milquest's skin, causing a 
temporary feeling of warmth where they touched.  Suddenly, 
there was a kind of explosion that emanated from the cloud's 
core.  Milquest felt a great gust of warm wind wash over him, 
nearly knocking him backwards, and he barely choked back a 
scream.  A split second later he heard the windows of the 
church smashed outward as the wave washed through them.  
Milquest then opened his eyes again in time to see a figure, 
still wrapped amidst the shimmering remnants of the dissipating 
cloud, slowly descend back to the stage floor where it lay in a 
crumpled heap.

The ogre hurried to her side.  "Fiona... are you all right?" he 
asked with concern, reaching down for her.

"Why -- yes," the ogress said as she stood with his help and 
looked down at herself.  She appeared no different than before 
the cloud's reappearance, and this apparently perplexed and 
disappointed her.  "But I--I don't understand," she said, then 
looked at him, smiled sadly and added almost apologetically, "I 
was supposed to be beautiful."

The ogre smiled lovingly at her, and he gave a minute little 
shake of his head as he saw the concern with which she watched 
him looking at her.  "But you ARE beautiful!" he declared.

The ogress gazed into his face and saw the adoration and 
sincerity beaming down at her.  She smiled brightly.  She even 
giggled.  Then they again reached for each other.

"I was hoping this would be a happy ending," the donkey almost 
sobbed from atop the dragon's head as the ogres once more and 
fell into a tight embrace, their eyes closed, their lips 
locked, and their entire world consisting only of each other.

The cue card worker, feeling inspired, held up the card that 
read "Applause," and the crowd broke into a loud round of it.  
There were even some enthusiastic whistles heard from around 
the church.  The ogres, however, remained oblivious to all of 
it.  Milquest felt a little tug at his heart as he watched 
them.

Then he felt a tug at his arm.  He looked over to see a thin, 
balding, bespeckled man carrying a large briefcase.  It was 
Clarence Beaglely, the town manager, and his usually impassive 
face bore a look of great concern.

"Come on!" Beaglely said with some urgency.

"What's wrong?" Milquest asked.

Beaglely gestured to the side of the church where Gledius 
stood.  The captain had regained some of his composure.  He had 
retrieved and re-sheathed his sword, but his hand still rested 
on its hilt, and he glared at the ogre couple with barely 
restrained loathing.

"We've got to make sure the donkey's right," Beaglely said.