Once upon a time-
Well, we wish. Let’s not beat around the bush; you may expect every fairytale to start with “Once upon a time,” but that isn’t always the case. Besides, this isn’t an ordinary fairytale. Let me introduce Little Red Riding Hood. Now, I implore you not to call her by that name, because you see, she isn’t little, and she certainly doesn’t ride horses. She prefers to be called Red. Many people fondly call her Red Hood, because she wears a red hood (I advise you not to call her Red Hood unless you have a death wish).
Now let me present the Wolf. He isn't the only Wolf in Fairy Tale Forest, but he is also the nicest. Don’t believe me? Well that’s your problem then. Anyway, Wolf gets bored very easily. The only fun he had was when a man, who was very chubby and sweating like a sinner in church, riding a horse, wandered through the forest. The horse didn’t like Wolf near, so it cantered off, and as a joke, Wolf ran after it. The man fell off the horse, and it galloped away, neighing in fright. Wolf thought this was very funny, and went to thank the man for letting him chase the horse. He walked up to him, but he jumped in fright and locked himself behind an iron gate. The Iron Gate guarded the castle, but Wolf had never been in there. So, Wolf decided to-
Anyway! That’s another story, for another time. So, as you can see, Wolf never had much to do around the forest. He visited this old woman who lived in the forest often. They sat and had tea, but Wolf never liked holding the cups. She was very adamant that he had to hold his “pinkie finger” out, and he always went home with it very cramped. Today, instead, he was slinking round the forest doing nothing.
But, alas, we have forgotten Little Red Riding Hood - Ouch! Sorry, I mean we have forgotten Red. Red’s mother loved cooking. She cooked cakes, scones, meringue, and lots of other delicious foods. Today, the Kingdom was celebrating Princess Aurora's sixteenth birthday, and her mother had cooked a delicious cake, with lots of icing and strawberries. Red loved her mother's cooking, so it was very fortunate that her mother asked her to take it to her Gran’s house. Red obliged, and, adorning her red cloak, sauntered out of the house and into the wood.
When she was safely out of sight, where her mother couldn’t see her, Red sank down on the floor, resting against the rough bark of a tree and pulled the red and white checked blanket off of the basket, and wolfed down a mouthful of cake, sighing in delight. She gobbled up the whole cake, and feeling slightly sleepy, her belly full of gorgeous home made cake, she drifted into sleep.
The next morning she awoke, and quickly pushed the blanket over the basket, and hurried off to her Gran’s house...
... to find the forest blocked by a tangle of emerald green thorns! Determined, she crawled through a very convenient Red-sized hole, and continued on her way. She pushed through the thorns- careful not to prick herself- and finally made it to her Gran’s house.
Now, whilst Red had been carefully navigating the thorns, Wolf had decided to visit the old woman’s house. He had sat down, legs crossed, very proper and prim, sipping from a china cup (“Pinkie finger out, Wolf, my dear!”) and feeling very miserable. The old woman excused herself for a moment, to root through her cupboard to find her album of stuffed cats. Now Wolf had seen this album lots of times before- it made him feel rather sick- and concluded that today, he would not look at them. He crept up behind the old woman, and tapped her on the shoulder. With a small cry, she jumped from shock and toppled into the cupboard. The door swung shoot and the door bolted itself as she kicked to be let free. Wolf scrabbled with the lock, but his large fingers found it hard to get any purchase on the small bolt. He tried to prise the door open but to no avail. She gave an almighty kick at the door, and Wolf heard a large bang as something tumbled over. The old woman gave a small moan, and then became silent. Wolf became very worried. But then, all of a sudden:
“Gran! I’ve brought you – a... err... basket full of love?” Wolf flapped his large, furry paws for a second. He made a bee-line for the bed, and picked up the folded pyjamas and hurriedly stuffed them on. He picked up the night-time cap and pulled it on his head. He jumped into the bed, and cried:
“Come in dear!” He said, mimicking the old woman’s voice. He nearly coughed, the high pitched voice made his throat hurt, and he grabbed the glass of water from his bed and took a greedy slurp, soothing his throat. He collapsed back onto the bed. Oh No...
Red slowly opened the door. She gasped:
“What large ears you have!”
“All the better to hear you with,”
“What large eyes you have!”
“All the better to see you with,”
“What large teeth you have!”
“All the better to eat that with,” He nodded towards the basket, where the smell of cake and strawberries wafted from. Red’s eyes widened.
“Eat me with?” She gasped.
“No!”
“Yes!” The answers came at the same time. A large wood cutter, with tree trunks for arms, and beady eyes burst in, glaring at Wolf. He hefted the axe in his hand, and charged forward. Wolf leapt out of the bed and ran for his life. The night cap flew off, and the pyjama’s tangled in his legs. He tripped up and ripped them off. The Wood Cutter was advancing...
Wolf sprinted through the thorns, as they tore at his skin. His pulse pounded in his ears as he ran.
So that is why, as I tell this story, with Red on my left and Wolf on my right, Wolf says:
“And that, children, is why you should never become a wood cutter,”
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