It was a fine Tuesday morning in the village of Hayldet, which
was odd as it was Wednesday everywhere else. Mrs. Hood had just
finished her breakfast and was talking to her young daughter.
"Now, I want you to go and visit Granny this morning. She's
nearly 90 and will leave all her cash to the bloody dogs home if
we're not careful."
"Okay, Mum. Do you want me to take her some cakes laced with
rat poison again?"
"Not this time. Just be sure that you make the tea and slip
some of this potassium cyanide in hers. I've pumped the old bag
so full of rat poison over the years that she must be immune to
it by now. It's never done more than put her in a coma for a few
weeks anyway."
"I'm not sure that I want to murder Granny, Mum. I'm 19 next
month, and I believe that my future job prospects may be harmed
if prospective employers discover that I have murdered members of
my family."
"Never mind that. With the money from Granny's estate we can
afford to have your name changed from Little Red Riding to
something more sensible, like Janet or Boyz N The."
"Wow, Janet Hood..." mumbled Little Red Riding, her
eyes lighting up.
"Don't do that thing with your eyes, you know it frightens
the cat." her mother warned.
And so Little Red Riding grabbed the bottle of potassium cyanide
and left the house.
"Hey! Close the door!" her mother called after her.
"Were you born in a barn?"
"You should know, Mum. You were there."
The sky was blue and birds were singing as Little Red Riding
skipped merrily through the forest, singing to squirrels and
sticking pins in a waxen effigy of Peter Andre. Granny's house
was approximately two miles from her present position, and the
going was good to firm although there was a chance of rain later.
The plot was becoming stagnant when - suddenly - a grey, furry
creature stepped into Little Red Riding's path.
"Good Morning, Madam. Allow me to introduce myself."
the creature said, producing a card which read:
Donald Tiberius Croft Fairy Tale Wolf Huffing and Puffing a Specialty *** Ask about my cheap rates! *** Regulated by the Lupine Malefactor Authority |
Little Red Riding read the card, and so did you. "How
strange - I don't recall any mention of wolves in this mornings
mammal forecast on Classic FM." ventured our heroine,
confused.
"I don't put too much faith in those forecasts anymore, not
since they failed to predict the rain of elks a few years
back," said the wolf.
"Indeed - that was a terrible day. Anyway, Mr. Croft, why
have you interrupted my skipping and popstar voodoo?"
"Well, madam, I am about to start my own furniture
reupholstering business and I am in need of a secretary. I have
consulted the local job centre, who advised me that the best way
to find candidates is to skulk about in a forest. I was wondering
if you would like to attend an interview for this position?"
"I am afraid that I must decline your kind offer, Mr. Croft,
as I am fully aware that wolves in fairy tales are allegorical
projections of fear and malice, and that you would almost
certainly kill me. Now, if you will excuse me, I must hasten to
my Grandmother."
"WELL!" roared the wolf. "I am absolutely
disgusted by your blatant racism. Wolves are pack animals and
predators, not some sort of metaphor for psychopaths. I have
clearly misjudged you. Good day."
Little Red Riding skipped away while the wolf turned his back to
her. But as soon as the girl was out of sight, he called for a
taxi. "Granny Hood's house, and step on It."
"Righto Guvnor, " said the taxi driver, crushing the
Stephen King novel underfoot. "You'll never believe who I
had in the back last week - Sylvester Stallone! He wanted to go
to Ongar..."
And so it came to pass that the wolf arrived at Granny's house some time before Little Red Riding. He locked Granny in a cupboard, put on her clothes and hid in her bed, as is customary in these circumstances.
Oblivious to this act of inter-species transvestitism, Little Red Riding knocked on the door of Granny's house. "Come in!" called the wolf, in a voice not entirely dissimilar to Granny's. The girl entered the house, walked into Granny's bedroom and saw the wolf in a night-dress. "I see that the rat poison has finally had an effect on Granny's metabolism," thought Little Red Riding, but she said nothing.
"Hello, dear. Did you have a nice walk in the
woods?" asked the wolf, speaking in a falsetto that would
put the Bee Gees to shame.
"Yes, thank you." replied Little Red Riding, looking
worried.
"What is the matter, child?" inquired the wolf, aware
of the girl's uneasiness.
"My, Granny, what big eyes you have!"
"Don't be ridiculous. Wolves' eyes are slightly smaller than
those of a human, so you can hardly describe them as unnaturally
large."
"My, Granny, what big teeth you have!"
"That's because I'm a predatory mammal and have to kill
animals and rip flesh from their carcasses."
"My, Granny, what big feet you have!"
"That is clearly ludicrous. Firstly, wolves don't have feet,
they have paws; and secondly, all four of my paws are hidden
under the bedclothes, so it is not possible for you to see them
anyway."
"Ah-ha!" cried Little Red Riding, jumping backwards.
"I can deduce from your previous statements that you are in
fact not my Grandmother, but a wolf!"
"Damn and blast," said the wolf, "I do seem to
have given myself away somewhat. I am actually Donald Croft, the
wolf you met in the woods today."
"I see," said Little Red Riding. "Why have you
tried to confuse me so?"
"Well," said the wolf, removing Granny's clothing.
"Your previous statement about wolves and malice was
correct. I was hoping to kill you for no reason at all."
Little Red Riding opened the door. "I suggest that you
leave, Mr. Croft, for I am aware that contrary to popular belief,
a single wolf is no match for a human in a fight. In fact, one
good kick to the head would finish it. Besides, I have a
gun."
"But surely my superior reflexes and sharp incisors would
allow me to rip out your jugular artery before you had time to
defend yourself?"
"Perhaps that is true. Perhaps it is not. Either way, I
still have a gun."
"I see. Once again I am beaten back by human technology,
just like the time my software company went bankrupt." said
the wolf, as he left the house. "It seems I will have to
continue my quest for a secretary/victim elsewhere. Thank you for
your time. Oh, and by the way, your maternal grandmother is in
the broom cupboard."
Little Red Riding opened the broom cupboard door and released
Granny, making sure that Gordon the Gopher and Edd the Duck did
not escape. "Thank you, dear. Is the wolf gone?" asked
the old lady.
"Indeed he is. Now you sit down and get warm," said
Little Red Riding, giving Granny her clothes back.
"Would you make me a nice cup of tea, dear?"
"Of course, Granny. Of course..."