Twist on an Old Story

Twist on an Old Story

On my way through the forest, I encountered a young wolf.
“Where are you going?”
“To grandma’s ginger bread house.”
“Little Red Ridinghood’s grandma?”
“An old story. After they got rescued and my father got axed, the shoe lady with a herd of kids moved in.”
“She’ not a Grandma.”
“Will be many times over. Just didn’t bother to change the sign at the gate.”
“Ginger bread?”
“I just threw that in ’caus I’m hungry. Besides, with all them kids one or the other is likely named Hansel or Gretle.”
“And your business with Shoe Lady?”
“I make an annual visit in honor of my father’s untimely death. One of these years I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow their house down. It’s just a pig sty anyhow.”
“And send the family back to the Shoe?”
“No room. A woman with three unmarried daughters took possession. Raised pumpkins to make the payments. She removed the second floor and turned the toe into a solarium like an all-glass slipper. Forced her daughters to undress in the basement, especially the pretty one.”
“That’s sad.”
“Not really. A king known for the size of his balls presented one to the public hoping a proper lady would arrive for his son, Prince Uncharming, to marry.”
“I believe the prince was charming.”
“Why would he need one of his father’s balls to attract a wife?”
“Good point. Then he could use his own balls.” I chuckled. “Restore the Old Woman’s shoe to full size for his wife and family.”
“Not quite. He had only one daughter. A beauty with long blond hair. Kept her from public scrutiny. But word got out; daughter of a wealthy king—”
“Wealthy?”
“Yes. Seems everything he touched turned to gold. Even ordered a golden set of clothes.”
“How did that turn out?”
“He got conned. Shammed. Ponzzied. Lost his shirt—and pants—on the deal. Laughing stock of the peasants. And to top it all, his daughter, with the help of an aide, made an attempted escape. Lost her hair in the process, but still much too beautiful to suit her father. He commissioned a hag to turn her into a frog to deter suitors.”
“Wait a minute. Wasn’t the frog a prince, not a princess?”
“A princess is merely a prince without—”
“Please, let’s not go there.”
The wolf howled. “Balls, cried the queen. If I had two, I’d be king.” Saliva dripping off fangs. “See you around. I can already taste the gingerbread.”
“Talk about a Grimm ending.”

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