Once upon a time, smonce upon a time. Why do all fairytales start that way? The story I'm about to tell you isn't a fairytale. Well, not really. It's my version of a fairytale. My name is Theodore J. Wolfe and I am gong to tell you the real story of "Little Red Riding Hood."
I remember the day clearly. I was in the woods, minding my own business when I smelled pork. Not just any pork; no, no, no! This was pork from two of the Three Little Pigs. Wolves have an uncanny ability to identify pigs by their smell. Now, I thought I had eaten every last bit of those pigs, but I must have left some behind.
Next, I heard a little girl singing. So, I did what any wolf would do. I jumped out in front of the path and scared her. Hey, don't blame me. It's what wolves do best. After she got over her initial shock, I tried to start a conversation.
"Where are you going, pretty little girl?"
"I'm Little Red Riding Hood. I'm going to my grandmother's house. She's sick in bed, so I'm bringing her lunch. There are some ham sandwiches, pork, roast beef..." I had to step back so I didn't drool in the basket. Little Red continued. "She lives in that big yellow house at the end of the path. I think I only have about a half-mile to go now."
This was too easy. She gave me all the information I needed, and I didn't even have to ask.
"Why don't you pick some flowers for her? I’m sure she'd love that!" I suggested. I was just trying to make sure her little granny had something pretty to look at while she was sick in bed. While she picked flowers, I took a shortcut to granny's house. You didn't think I'd just take that basket from her, did you? That would be rude. I went undercover.
I knocked on Granny's door.
"Come in, Little Red!" Well, with an invitation like that, who could refuse? I walked in, and poor Granny was as white as the sheets on her bed. I gently moved her to the closet. For her own safety, of course.
I dressed in her nightgown and cap. It was a tight fit, but I think I only stretched it out a little bit. I got under the covers and waited for Little Red.
Soon, I heard a dainty little knock.
"Come in," I said, in my best "old granny" voice.
Little Red walked to the foot of the bed.
"My, Granny, what big eyes you have!"
"The better to see you with, my dear." I don't know where I cam up with that line. It was actually pretty dumb, but it fooled Red. She's not the smartest little girl, in case you didn't notice.
"My, Granny. What big ears you have!"
"The better to hear you with, my dear." I couldn’t believe this was working.
"My, Granny. What a big nose you have!"
"The better to smell you with, my dear!"
"My, Granny. What big teeth you have!"
Now here is where things get confusing. I did jump out of the bed, and I probably looked a bit hungry; but I did not, I repeat, did NOT say "The better to eat you with, my dear." Wolf Scout honor. I said, "The better to eat MEAT with, my dear." Then I lunged for the basket. Not little Red. I just wanted a taste of those little pigs again. Little Red dropped it, and started screaming. It made me wish my ears weren't quite as big.
There was a woodcutter nearby, and he heard the commotion. He ran in, and chased me out with his ax. I didn't even get to eat one of the ham sandwiches. Not one morsel.
Little Red, Granny, and the woodcutter called the police. They charged me with trespassing, impersonating a grandmother, and unlawfully taking away a picnic basket. I didn't even get the picnic basket. I was running for my life, I tell you. They should have charged the woodcutter with attempted murder; but did they listen to my side of the story? No. Of course not.
Now, who are you going to believe, me, Theodore J. Wolfe, or some little girl, her old grandmother, and a woodcutter?
Say, is that the oldest of the Three Pigs I smell? Well, I'll let you go. I need to catch dinner. Goodnight.
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