Back in the day, Little Red Riding Hood would walk through the woods to visit her grandmother.
But now that Little Red Riding Hood is a grandmother, do her grandchildren come and visit her?
Hardly, and they don’t call, either. Or send letters.
Maybe they send a birthday card now and then. And they say they send emails, but Red doesn’t know how use email, or the Skype or any of those things.
The Big Bad Wolf was long dead, and he didn’t have any grandkids.
Same with the Woodsman.
Red sat on the porch, smoked joints, and read books.
BB Wolf wasn’t like other wolves.
He was a farmer. His primary crops were corn and soybeans, he also raised cucumbers, basil, and other things.
One day, he went out to his fields and saw three houses:
A house of straw.
A house of wood.
And a house of bricks.
“Goddamned squatters,” he mumbled.
Not only had they tapped his electrical line, but when he checked his router, they were stealing his WiFi, too.
Instead of confronting them directly, he called the sheriff.
Three squealing pigs were dragged off to jail.
The Wolf used the brick house as a shed.
Once upon a time, there was a duck’s nest full of eggs.
They all hatched at the same time.
One of the babies was uglier than the rest, and the others picked on him.
As they all grew up, the ugly baby didn’t sprout feathers and a beak.
Instead, he grew shiny scales, pointy teeth, and wickedly sharp foreclaws.
Because he was a velociraptor.
One day, a duck made a comment about how ugly he looked.
The velociraptor slashed his head off, and he ate the duck.
Then, he killed and ate all of the judgmental little bastards.
For many years, Baba Yaga’s hut walked around on a pair of gigantic chicken legs.
But a harsh winter forced her to cook and eat one of the legs.
Instead of walking around smoothly on two legs, the hut hopped and wobbled on its single leg. Everything inside the hut was knocked around, and anything fragile was smashed to bits.
The old witch was forced to cook and eat the other leg.
Since she couldn’t find any more chicken legs, she bought a Winnebago.
Not as terrifying-looking as a magical chicken leg hut, but you should see how she drives!
Once upon a time, there was a prince that was seeking a bride.
But every prospect just wasn’t good enough for him, and he sent them away.
Until one rainy night, a woman showed up at the palace, seeking shelter from the storm.
The prince stacked up a dozen mattresses, and he slipped a single pea under them.
Then, the princess climbed up the mattress pile, got under the covers, and tried to go to sleep.
But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t.
“Do you feel that pea?” asked the prince.
“No,” said the princess. “I’m afraid of heights.”
The princess found herself a prince, but he’d been cursed into the shape of a frog.
He told her that the curse would be lifted if she were to kiss him.
“At least that tasted good,” the princess said to the still-cursed frog prince.
“Maybe you need to do something else?” said the frog.
Grinning, she lifted her dress and shoved the squirming frog between her legs.
The experience was magical in more ways than one.
Exhausted, she looked up at her prince.
“Marry me,” she said.
“Hell no,” said the prince. “You fucked a frog, you disgusting freaky bitch.”
Hansel and Gretel’s parents couldn’t afford to feed them, so they took the kids deep into the woods to abandon them.
However, the kids left a trail of breadcrumbs, and they followed it back to their home.
“Where did you get that bread?” shouted their parents. “We’re starving, and you waste bread like that?”
I stopped my mother and said “Don’t they use pebbles first? And shouldn’t the birds eat the breadcrumbs?”
My mother put the book down. “Fine, Little Mister Know-It-All. The birds ate the breadcrumbs. Then they caught and ate the birds. The end.”
My stomach rumbled painfully.