Buried deep within the halls of Castle Nudnik — in a windowless room filled with nothing but straw — a young blonde shiksa weeps over her spinning wheel.
Poof! A swarthy, red-headed man appears.
Man: "Shiksa! Why do you cry so?"
Shiksa: "Gasp! It's you! Oh thank G-d! You have to help me!"
Man: "I was just trying to get you to be quiet so I could get to sleep but, OK, sure. What can I do for you?"
Shiksa: "You don't know? I need to turn all this straw into gold."
Man: "What are you, meshuggenah? You want me to turn your spinning wheel into a 2002 Ferrari Enzo, while I'm at it?"
Shiksa: "But... in the stories a magical imp appears and transforms the straw into gold to protect the girl from her king..."
Man: "And I look like a magical imp? Oy, you Germans and your fakakta stereotypes. Look, my cousin down in the diamond district, he has some gold, maybe he helps you out? He'll give you a good rate!"
Shiksa: "Oh! Thank you! I think..."
Man: "Anything for you, little shiksa. We'll solve this dilemma somehow or my name isn't Rumpelstilstein!"
Shiksa: "Ah HA! You told me your name! Now I don't have to give you anything in exchange!"
Man: "Oy... I keep telling you I'm not that guy!"