riding hood
This is my take on an old classic. enjoy
Little Red Riding Hood was a young lass that wore a red-hooded cape everywhere she went. A naive but somewhat wary girl of 18 years, she often spent her time in the woods, unaware of its dangers deep within up until recently. Her grandmother, her best friend, lived at the other end of the woods. Because of the danger of the deep woods, her visits to her grandmother named Grampus were brief and somewhat seldom. One day, Grampus emailed Little Red Riding Hood, of whom we'll call Larah, with a message stating:
Larah was puzzled. Grandma had a will? The balls on this fucking broad, telling a kid to visit her with cookies in a forest she knows is dangerous. Grampus knew Larah's father died from a magic wheat thresher and her mom worked as an alcoholic in the local YMCA. She lived in a house with no locks because locks don't exist in Fairytale Land. Fairytale Land actually sucks when you sit down and think about it.
Larah loved Grampus so, however, and was willing to risk her mom's collection of vinyls from the popular rock band of the '00s The Silence Burns My Ass to appease her passive-aggressive grandmother. Dumping a box of Famous Amos cookies into a covered basket and sweeping onto herself a red cloak, she set off to Grampus' home.
After braving through the jungle wildlife, abandoned traps from local poachers, a hostile tribe of aboriginals, Gary Glitter and the entirety of the Rent movie, Larah was halfway through the forest in two hours' time. Despite having a bleeding gash on her leg, she skipped merrily through the woods before stopping to smoke a joint she rolled earlier. She's bleeding, 18 years old and just survived some bizarre shit; she earned it.
As she skipped along the way, a figure from the shadows eyed her from afar.
"I MUST INTERVIEW THIS WOMAN," the figure shouted monotonously.
Some time passed before Larah approached the fork in the path that led to her Grampus' house. She was crashing from the high and was about to double up before an old man came out of nowhere dressed in a suit and wielding a microphone.
"GOOD EVENING. I'M THE BIG BAD WOLF BLITZER REPORTING FOR CNN," the man says towards an open area where he thinks a cameraman is, "I'M WITH THIS TEENAGER, MS. DONOVAN. TELL ME EVERYTHING YOU KNOW."
"....Donovan? What the fuck...?," Larah says.
"DO NOT USE THE SWEARS OR I WILL KILL YOUR GRANDMOTHER," Wolf says with no change in his prior tone.
"WHAT?!"
"WE JUST HEARD FROM LITTLE GIRL DONOVAN," Wolf says, addressing the open fields as he was before, "THIS SHOULD PUT THE ANTIFA PROTEST INTO A PERSPECTIVE UNHEARD OF AND SO UNFATHOMABLE BEFORE."
With this, the scraggly robotic man fucks off into the distance.
"What the fuck just happened?," Larah says aloud.
She is suddenly seized by a booming, ethereal voice belonging to what is certainly Wolf's voice, buckling under the power. "I SAID NO SWEARS," the voice bellowed, "I'M KILLING YOUR GRANDMOTHER. MORE AFTER THE BREAK."
Larah recovered and made haste towards Grampus' abode, dealing with the perils of the jungle with a .1911 she had on her but didn't use up until now because ammo isn't cheap, before finally reaching her Gramma Grampus's house. She storms inside with her pistol at the ready, unaware that her clip is dry.
Inside she sees Wolf Blitzer in her grandma's bed, dressed in her grandma's nightgown and knitting. She tries firing her weapon but realizes she's empty.
"GRANDMOTHER MISSING IN KENTUCKY," he shouts into an imaginary camera, "I'M WOLF BLITZER OF CNN WITH THE GRANDDAUGHTER OF MISSING SLAIN WOMAN GRAMPUS DONOVAN. MISS DONOVAN, WILL YOU COMMENT ON MY EYES?"
"Where's Grampus, asshole?!," Larah shouts.
"COMMENT ON MY EYES."
"Look, I know how this bullshit reporting is praxis for yo--"
"COMMENT ON MY EYES. I AM AUTHORIZED TO OPEN FIRE."
"They're.....beady and shit. I don't know."
"ALL THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH, HUMAN. COMMENT ON MY TEETH."
"They're...normal? As normal as dentures can be, I guess...?"
"ALL THE BETTER TO EMULATE SMILING WITH. COMMENT NOW ON THE STATE OF THE ECONOMY UNDER PRESIDENT TRUMP."
"....what?"
At that moment, a crazed man wearing nothing but a loincloth and wielding a chainsaw burst into the house and carved a deep gash into Granny Wolf's abdomen before it got stuck. The moment it did, the crazed man ran away yelling, leaving Larah with the mortally wounded Granny Wolf.
"WOODSMAN KILLS BELOVED CNN REPORTER," he shouts, "I'M HERE WITH THE WITNESS OF THE MURDER, LITTLE GIRL DONOVAN. DID I DO GOOD?"
"....no?," Larah answers.
"I DID GOOD. ACCEPTABLE," Wolf says before dramatically taking his last simulated breath.
Larah observes the bloodshed around her, seemingly disturbed by the scene. She rubs her eyes and subsequently walks into her possibly deceased grandmother's kitchen stoically, sitting down and eating every cookie she put into the basket she brought.
Little Red Riding Hood was a young lass that wore a red-hooded cape everywhere she went. A naive but somewhat wary girl of 18 years, she often spent her time in the woods, unaware of its dangers deep within up until recently. Her grandmother, her best friend, lived at the other end of the woods. Because of the danger of the deep woods, her visits to her grandmother named Grampus were brief and somewhat seldom. One day, Grampus emailed Little Red Riding Hood, of whom we'll call Larah, with a message stating:
"Come up with cookies right the fuck now or you're out of the will."
- Grampus
Larah was puzzled. Grandma had a will? The balls on this fucking broad, telling a kid to visit her with cookies in a forest she knows is dangerous. Grampus knew Larah's father died from a magic wheat thresher and her mom worked as an alcoholic in the local YMCA. She lived in a house with no locks because locks don't exist in Fairytale Land. Fairytale Land actually sucks when you sit down and think about it.
Larah loved Grampus so, however, and was willing to risk her mom's collection of vinyls from the popular rock band of the '00s The Silence Burns My Ass to appease her passive-aggressive grandmother. Dumping a box of Famous Amos cookies into a covered basket and sweeping onto herself a red cloak, she set off to Grampus' home.
After braving through the jungle wildlife, abandoned traps from local poachers, a hostile tribe of aboriginals, Gary Glitter and the entirety of the Rent movie, Larah was halfway through the forest in two hours' time. Despite having a bleeding gash on her leg, she skipped merrily through the woods before stopping to smoke a joint she rolled earlier. She's bleeding, 18 years old and just survived some bizarre shit; she earned it.
As she skipped along the way, a figure from the shadows eyed her from afar.
"I MUST INTERVIEW THIS WOMAN," the figure shouted monotonously.
Some time passed before Larah approached the fork in the path that led to her Grampus' house. She was crashing from the high and was about to double up before an old man came out of nowhere dressed in a suit and wielding a microphone.
"GOOD EVENING. I'M THE BIG BAD WOLF BLITZER REPORTING FOR CNN," the man says towards an open area where he thinks a cameraman is, "I'M WITH THIS TEENAGER, MS. DONOVAN. TELL ME EVERYTHING YOU KNOW."
"....Donovan? What the fuck...?," Larah says.
"DO NOT USE THE SWEARS OR I WILL KILL YOUR GRANDMOTHER," Wolf says with no change in his prior tone.
"WHAT?!"
"WE JUST HEARD FROM LITTLE GIRL DONOVAN," Wolf says, addressing the open fields as he was before, "THIS SHOULD PUT THE ANTIFA PROTEST INTO A PERSPECTIVE UNHEARD OF AND SO UNFATHOMABLE BEFORE."
With this, the scraggly robotic man fucks off into the distance.
"What the fuck just happened?," Larah says aloud.
She is suddenly seized by a booming, ethereal voice belonging to what is certainly Wolf's voice, buckling under the power. "I SAID NO SWEARS," the voice bellowed, "I'M KILLING YOUR GRANDMOTHER. MORE AFTER THE BREAK."
Larah recovered and made haste towards Grampus' abode, dealing with the perils of the jungle with a .1911 she had on her but didn't use up until now because ammo isn't cheap, before finally reaching her Gramma Grampus's house. She storms inside with her pistol at the ready, unaware that her clip is dry.
Inside she sees Wolf Blitzer in her grandma's bed, dressed in her grandma's nightgown and knitting. She tries firing her weapon but realizes she's empty.
"GRANDMOTHER MISSING IN KENTUCKY," he shouts into an imaginary camera, "I'M WOLF BLITZER OF CNN WITH THE GRANDDAUGHTER OF MISSING SLAIN WOMAN GRAMPUS DONOVAN. MISS DONOVAN, WILL YOU COMMENT ON MY EYES?"
"Where's Grampus, asshole?!," Larah shouts.
"COMMENT ON MY EYES."
"Look, I know how this bullshit reporting is praxis for yo--"
"COMMENT ON MY EYES. I AM AUTHORIZED TO OPEN FIRE."
"They're.....beady and shit. I don't know."
"ALL THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH, HUMAN. COMMENT ON MY TEETH."
"They're...normal? As normal as dentures can be, I guess...?"
"ALL THE BETTER TO EMULATE SMILING WITH. COMMENT NOW ON THE STATE OF THE ECONOMY UNDER PRESIDENT TRUMP."
"....what?"
At that moment, a crazed man wearing nothing but a loincloth and wielding a chainsaw burst into the house and carved a deep gash into Granny Wolf's abdomen before it got stuck. The moment it did, the crazed man ran away yelling, leaving Larah with the mortally wounded Granny Wolf.
"WOODSMAN KILLS BELOVED CNN REPORTER," he shouts, "I'M HERE WITH THE WITNESS OF THE MURDER, LITTLE GIRL DONOVAN. DID I DO GOOD?"
"....no?," Larah answers.
"I DID GOOD. ACCEPTABLE," Wolf says before dramatically taking his last simulated breath.
Larah observes the bloodshed around her, seemingly disturbed by the scene. She rubs her eyes and subsequently walks into her possibly deceased grandmother's kitchen stoically, sitting down and eating every cookie she put into the basket she brought.
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