The Real Story of Little Red Riding Hood
4 Jul 2000
One beautiful spring morning, Little Red Riding Hood's mother sent the young girl off to Grandmother's cottage with a basket of eggs. Little Red was so preoccupied with her new yellow-striped dress and bonnet that she failed to notice the large, ugly, slavering gray wolf watching her from a tree with his fifty-power high-tech heat-sensing infrared-detecting binoculars.
But then the wolf, leaning out too far on a branch too thin to support his enormous bulk, cried out as the twig snapped and he plummeted to the ground.
Little Red heard the thud, turned around and saw the wolf lying there, dazed and in a stupor, and she gasped.
"Oh my," she said, and skipped over to the mass of speckled gray fur. "Mr. Wolfe, were you spying on me?"
The wolf looked at her, smiled (showing his razor-sharp teeth), and said, "Who, me? Why would I spy on you, Red?"
"Well," Red said, "in school yesterday we read about your species and the teacher said that wolves, especially gray wolves, love to snack on young children. Of course, she may have just said that because Timmy was being obnoxious and he needed to be taught a lesson, but--"
The wolf interrupted her. "That's nice, Red. Where are you going?"
Red smiled. "Didn't your mommy ever tell you not to reveal personal information to strangers who may end up stalking and kidnapping you, leading to a massive world-wide search and three major blockbuster films starring famous celebrities and grossing several million dollars?"
"Ah," said the wolf, with a gleam in his eyes. "So I take it you're going to Grandma's. Am I right?"
"Like I would tell you? You, a fiendish little-girl-eating monster designed to terrify children late at night? You, whose kind has spawned countless fairy tales and National Geographic specials? I don't think so."
The wolf grumbled. "Aw, come on Red. We wolves have got to have fun sometimes. Be a good sport, will you? Please?"
Little Red scoffed and turned away. As she began skipping along the path she looked back and said, "Grandma has a .22, so I would heavily advise against your following me. Besides, I have this," and pulled out a shiny new cellular phone. "I would hate to have to call the authorities on you."
Wolves being wolves, our sneaky gray beast disregarded Red's warnings and slipped into the forest. He ran as fast as he could to Grandma's house, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his flank (which had been caused by his inglorious embrace with the forest floor).
The white cottage, with its grandmotherly blue trimmings, soon came into view. The wolf stealthily crept around to the back and, seeing Grandma inside knitting, promptly threw open the door, strode into the sitting room, and ate the senile woman.
Seconds later, however, he experience severe indigestion. Apparently he forgot about Grandma's knitting needles. Glimpsing Little Red skipping up the path, he shoved his immense stomach pains to the back of his mind and ransacked Grandma's wardrobe, trying to find a nightgown that would fit. As the door knocker went rap-rap-rap, the wolf took one of the nightgowns, jumped into it, grabbed a nightcap and leapt into Grandma's bed. He pulled the covers over his head and called out, in the feeblest, weakest, oldest voice he could muster, "Please come in, Red. I've been waiting for you."
"Yes, I know, sweet Grandmother," came Little Red's voice from the hallway. The wolf could hear the tiny clap of footsteps as the girl approached. "How are you doing? My mother sent me to--"
She stopped, dropping the basket of eggs. "Mr. Wolfe, what on earth do you think you're doing in Grandma's bed? And in her nightgown, no less!"
"What? How did you figure it out so fast?" The wolf sat up and stared at her.
"Grandma doesn't have an elongated furry gray tail that sticks out from underneath the bedsheets," Red said. "I told you not to come here, furbrain." She whipped out her cellular phone. "Now I'll have to call 911." She dialed the number and stood there, impatiently tapping her foot. "Yes, operator? I would like to report an emergency. There is a wolf stalking me. What? I'm completely serious! He's sitting on my grandmother's bed right now! Don't you believe me? What is he doing on my grandmother's bed? I don't know -- Mr. Wolfe, what are you doing on Grandmother's bed?"
"Sitting watching you. As for your grandmother, I ate her and I'm hungry enough that I'll probably eat you too."
"He ate my -- what! You ate Grandma! How could you? The atrocity! The selfishness! What a heartless, murderous, scandalous beast you are, Mr. Wolfe!" Then she remembered the phone in her hand. "Are you still there? This blasted wolf devoured my senile grandmother. What, you don't believe me? Just listen to him!"
She held the receiver out in front of the wolf. Smiling devilishly, he said in a perfect imitation of Grandma's voice, "Oh, don't listen to Little Red. She hasn'st been feeling very well lately."
Red screamed, "How dare you! Operator? Please, can you send someone? Anyone? It's the little white cottage at the end of the road, next to the stream. Thank you, oh thank you, thank you!"
She hung up and turned to the wolf. "You insidious beast! How could you do such a vile and wicked thing to a poor, defenseless creature such as my grandmother? O the horror! The outrage! Luckily for the rest of us, you're going to be locked up in a tiny, cramped, humid cell for the rest of your natural life. And maybe a little bit afterwards, too."
The wolf just laughed. And laughed. And laughed. "Red, Red, you're cracking me up. Do you really think that -- ow!" One of the needles had just poked his insides. Holding his stomach, he continued. "Do you really think that a little girl like you could send a gargantuan gray wolf like me to the slammer? Listen, Red. With one single gulp I could swallow you whole. In fact, I think I will, as soon as these needles pass through my digestive tract. You know, your grandmother didn't taste very good."
"How dare you insult her like that! As a matter of fact, I happen to know that my grandmother tasted like -- well, like peppermint. But you can just sit tight there -- a trained emergency response team is on its way to bind, gag, and incarcerate you. Having fun yet?"
"So much I think I'll burst for joy. Want to play cards?"
"Excuse me? Play cards with a wretched villain like you? I think not!"
Just then the front door flung open and slammed into the wall. A young man, probably twenty years old, dressed in a black jumpsuit with a handgun at his side and wearing a gray helmet with a faceplate, stormed into the bedroom. He pulled off the helmet and said, "I'm Luke Skywalker and I'm here to rescue you."
Little Red gaped at him. "You're who?" And inwardly she thought, He's so ravishingly handsome! I hope I don't faint -- that would be awfully embarrassing!
"Just kidding," he said, "I thought it would sound neat. What's your problem, little girl?"
"This murderous wolf just ate my senile, defenseless, petite, weak grandmother. Please tranquilize and incarcerate him. Put him in the darkest, dankest, deepest dungeon cell you can find."
The man looked at her in amazement. "Girl, I'm sorry, but that wolf belongs to an endangered species -- besides, this gun" (and he swung the gun around to show her) "is just a water gun." He pulled the trigger and a stream of water came out, soaking the wolf.
Little Red flew into a rage. "Those crumbs sent me an animal rights activist? I don't believe this! He ate my grandmother! Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Well, sure," the youth said. "It means the chance that this poor species will survive just increased. It may not be much, but it could make a difference. Save the wolves! By the way, what's that peppermint smell?"
The wolf, being sly and quick, saw his opportunity and leapt upon Little Red, swallowing her with one giant gulp. The man smiled. "Oh my goodness! I never ever in my wildest dreams thought I would have the privilege of seeing a gray wolf in its native habitat..."
His words were suddenly cut off as the wolf walked over, jaws open wide, and devoured him.
As the wolf slowly walked down the path away from Grandma's house, a film crew jumped out in front of him. "Say 'cheese'!" said a goofy-looking photographer. The wolf stretched and bared his teeth in a fierce snarl, waited for the flash to go off, and then asked, "Who are you guys with? National Geographic?"
The man frowned. "Uh, no. Wild America."
The wolf said, "Oh. Nice." He heaved his now ultra-heavy bulk down the rocky, well-trodden path to his lair and laid down to digest his meal.
And so ends the story of Little Red Riding Hood.
