QUIZ: Which Disney Princess Are You?

By Crystal Lowery of Creepy Ginger Kid

Think you know which Disney Princess you are? Take this quiz to find out!

What do you look for in a guy?

Money, cash, ca-ching ca-ching, and a royal title. I’m kind of a gold digger like that.

I’m into interspecies dating.

The only kind of man I want is a snowman.

Preferably a hairy kidnapper with roid rage.

Correct!

Wrong!

What is your personal Disney style?

I have an extensive glove wardrobe, but I also like to let loose with a trampy slit-dress when I’m building ice castles.

Sushi meets seashells. Bluefin meets bikini. Sharkweek on the bottom, Baywatch on the top.

A blue sparkly dress, a headband, and one shoe.

I let a spooky, talking dresser select my clothes. She assures me I look darling as a glorified pineapple upside-down cake.

Correct!

Wrong!

What is your relationship with your mother like?

My mother is dead.

Correct!

Wrong!

What is your favorite TV show?

Anything HGTV. I’m a sucker for a home renovation show. Did you know I remodeled a pile of icicles into an elaborate residence?

The Bachelor. There’s nothing I love more than seeing 25 girls clamoring for the same wealthy dufus, despite his lack of personality, intelligence, and charisma.

Murder, She Wrote. It is all about a writer/investigator/eccentric with a bad haircut and no friends. Also, the lead character has a great singing voice.

Antiques Roadshow. My buddy, Scuttle, says I have a shot at major riches if I audition with my dinglehopper collection.

Correct!

Wrong!

Some people assume Disney princesses don't fart. How do you respond?

Couldn’t keep it in, heaven knows I tried. Then I melted a hole in the wall of my permafrost palace.

Let’s just say I took a road trip in a small carriage with Eric’s family after Taco Tuesday. Those poor unfortunate souls.

Sing, Sweet Nightingale. (“Nightingale” is what I call my sphincter.)

Whenever I enter a room, people hold their noses and say, “I think there’s something there that wasn’t there before.”

Correct!

Wrong!

My friends back home describe me as...

The only friend I have is this stalker dude who won’t take no for an answer. He’s about to get Le Restraining Order, so I guess he would describe me as “hard to get.”

Tall. Hardworking. Human.

Flaky. I don’t show up when I say I will and I often ruin musical productions, subsequently bringing shame upon my whole family.

They’ll tell you I used to be fun, but I never hang out anymore. I’m just so busy blaming my 6-year-old self for my parents’ negligence and building fancy chateaus out of frozen H20.

Correct!

Wrong!

How do you spend your free time?

Making clothes for mice. That’s normal, right?

I like to read, take long walks, and fall in love with my captor like a victim of Stockholm Syndrome.

I collect sea garbage.

Sitting forlornly in a room by myself while I shop for gloves online. That and ice castle renovation. Did I mention I have an ice castle?

Correct!