Once upon a time, in a deep, dark forest lived a girl.
Everyone called her Little Red Riding Hood because her grandma made her an awesome sauce cape and it was red, and most people have shitty imaginations when it comes to nicknames. This is how I ended up being called “Sarah with the long hair”. Come on…Seriously, this is my moniker? Meh, I’ve had so much better and I’ve had way worse.
She lived in a big, HUGE house in the woods all by herself, because she could.
T’was tucked way far, far away from anywhere, in the magical kingdom of Narnia, without the fur coats because mmmm, no fur.
In the winters the Snow Queen was a fucking asshole making messes and ice storms and killing the internet and making sure the roads never got plowed. Our heroine merely gave an unremarkable “Meh”… and she just dealt with it. The Lion King, Aslan always showed up with spring even when she was rather convinced he had really actually died this time and winter was going to last forever but it didn’t, so…s’okay.
Some days she felt like Cinderella, because she had to do tons of shitty housework and collect sticks in the woods and she had spent a good portion of the winter bundled up by the fire place and often had ashes on her face, because … zero fucks.
After the winter of her discontent, in the preamble to summertime she went out walking. Because, fuck winter walks, she lived where the air hurt her face, still not sure why that is. There are plenty of lovely magical lands where the air rarely if ever is as offensive as it is here. Even Mordor is warm.
Ever notice how twisted fairy tales really are?
Hansel and Gretel, blatant abandonment and neglect with a not so subtle hint of cannibalism. Cinderella = child labour, theft on a grand scale and abuse and she had a fairy godmother the WHOLE time who just left her in squalor? Not cool fairy godmamma, not cool at all. Sleeping Beauty, dude she is sleeping, that shit is rapey and the only think I know that is sharp and makes you sleep for a hundred years is a needle full of heroin. Snow White chokes and they bury her alive, not one dwarf can do the Heimlich, pinces kissing dead girls? And that other Red Riding Hood has a whole big, creepy pedophile vibe going on.
I make fix.
Back to our revamped Red.
She packed a basket full of goodies, because it was Friday and her turn to bring the Timbits and she wandered off into the other woods. She popped in at grandmas, who was a witch and a cougar of the highest order and happened to be entertaining the young woodsman. So our girl just said a quick ‘hey’ to them both, snagged a coffee and went on her merry way. She saw some dragons and bad witches but whatev’s, she had shit to do and they didn’t tend to fuck with her.
She wandered further and further into the forest until she came upon a dark and dreary cave. Terrifying and misunderstood by most, she loved it. To her this place felt cozy, like home or Wonderland complete with flowers that spoke, Cheshire cats, mushrooms, hookah smoking caterpillars and a Queen that was sofa king two-faced and irrational who ruled the realm with a dwarf and a giant. All of her woodland friends were there, little birds that played with her hair and bunnies to snuggle and elves that fixed her shoes while she was asleepin’ on 20 mattresses with a pea under them, making napping hard. The music was good and the river was made of whiskey in a big rock candy mountain and the cow jumped over a moon made of cream cheese, wait where was I? Dishes will be running with spoons soon. Must focus.
Oh ya, so there she sat, drink in her cup, rings on her fingers, glass slippers and bells on her toes, the fairest of them all, waiting her turn to dance around the May Pole, and lo what should appear? No, not the angel of the lord… A big bad wolf, in wolf’s clothing so he was instantly recognizable, way fucking better, all the better to see them. Noms. She sauntered over.
We are warned early and often of wolves in sheep’s clothing, I prefer my wolves naked and free, it’s those fucking sheep masquerading as wolves that fuck you up and break your heart every time. Mindless things awfully concerned with what they ‘should’ be doing.
He flashed his wicked smile at her and her knees buckled a little. She threw out some sassy-ass comments in an attempt to regain her composure and cut her eyes at him.
“My, my, what mesmerizing eyes you have” he said.
She rolled her mesmerizing eyes, took a long haul on her cigarette and said sweetly “What a lovely mouth you have”.
He just smiled. Way less cheesy that way.
So they discreetly retired to a darker corner of the dark cave in the dark woods, she slipped out of her cape and revealed that, she too was a wolf.
He looked at her like she was made of magic, moaned a low moan and bared his throat ever so slightly and she sank her teeth in nibbling and kissed the sweet spots, then titled her head back and ever so gently (then not even remotely gently) he returned the favour.
Then they ate each other all up.
And it was good.
Happily ever after or until they didn’t feel like it anymore.