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As told by The Boy Who Cried Wolf (now well into adulthood and sounds very similar to actor, Alan Ford, who played Bricktop in the film, Snatch.)

‘Ello boys and girls…

Once upon a time in an olde English village, completely unlike the fuck’n shithole I grew up in, lived a girl, whose name was Little Red Riding Hood.

’Er real name was Jessica Cooper, she lived at 43 West Hansberry Lane.

I’m just saying, that’s ’er name, and that’s where she lived, cause no one’s gonna believe a fuck’n story about some bird named after a fuck’n jumper.

And if you still don’t believe me—FUCK YOU.

She’s dead now anyway. So, it doesn’t fuck’n matter.

Shall we continue? That’s what I bloody well thought.

Anyway, Cooper lived on her own because her dad was arse over tit, and her mum was tart.

Every day she’d get’er ass up to pick flowers for her sick Grandmother who just refused to die.

At first her grandmother’s resilience seemed noble; but, after a while, everyone wished the old bat would just bugger off.

So, for the past nine fuck’n months, Cooper would bring her grandmother flowers every goddman morning.

She wouldn’t bring her food, nor tea, nor even a little fuck’n wine, just fuck’n flowers.

I tell you little piss whistles something, if I’m ever in that kind of fucking condition, if you have to, pistol-fuck’n-whip me until I’m fuck’n dead.

What? Fuck off.

Anyway, one fuck’n morning, Cooper’s walk’n along, when all of a sudden, she’s approached by the Big Bad Wolf, whose real name was Marcus.

What Marcus was do’n in that part of town, only God himself fuck’n knows. 

I knew Marcus’s father, and the whole family was a long line of wankers.

Strong fuckers. But, each of them dumber than the one before.

They were known for their in-a-fuck’n-bility to tie or button their own goddamn clothes.

So, Marcus greets this bird, his shirt peering through an opening in his trousers, and says, “Where the fuck you goin?”

You know, like a real twit.

Well, this scares the shit out of Cooper, cause she knows Marcus for fuck all.

And she tells him to “fuck off.” 

Like she bloody well should have.

Marcus being the giant fuck’n wolf donkey he was, vows revenge for being slighted by a little girl carrying fuck’n flowers.

I know. A real fuck’n pansy.

Cooper basically ran to her fuck’n grandmothers’ house. Can’t blame her there.

But Marcus is not in a hurry, cause he’s got that big fuck’n wolf nose of his.

He’ll just give her time and then track her down like it was fuck’n nothing.

Cooper gets to her grandmother’s house and walked in. 

The place looking like a fuck’n florist shop.

Her grandmother looked at the flowers, and thought, “Fuck, not again.”

In the meantime, Marcus waltzed in under the shadows of the fuck’n arboretum the place had become.

While Cooper was doing fuck all, Marcus climbed on the bed, put the grandmother out of her fuck’n misery, swallowed her whole, and then for him, fucking bonus, put on the dead woman’s knickers and bonnet.

Well Cooper turned around, and this is where I start to think that Cooper might have been part fuck’n donkey herself.

She looked right at Marcus and says, “Christ, Grandma, you look fucking awful.”

And the genius Marcus responds, “Fuck you, I’m dying.”

And Cooper says, “Fuck me? Fuck you. I walked fuck’n 10 miles to bring you flowers.”

To which Marcus says, “Brilliant, they go perfectly with the fuck’n small rainforest I already I have.”

Then Cooper says, “You fuck’n cunt. Every day it’s the same with you.”

Which was fuck’n telling in and of its fuck’n self.

Apparently, the relationship between Cooper and her grandmother was well-known to be fucking contentious, and this would not bode fucking well for the girl.

Marcus though was fuck’n stunned and because he’s had pig shit for brains, didn’t know what to fuck’n say or do.

So, he just yelled out, “When you come back tomorrow, I’ll be fuck’n dead.” 

Cooper replied, “Can’t wait!”

And that’s what happened… essentially.

Marcus regurgitated the old bat’s corpse onto the bed.

And Cooper came back the next day with more fuck’n flowers.

And lo and be fuck’n hold, there was Cooper’s soggy grandmum, mauled and rotting on the bed.

Well… who else were they gonna fuck’n pin it on?

No one else had a fuck’n motive except fuck’n Cooper.

And Cooper bloody fuck’n knew this too.

So, what does she fuck’n decide to do?

Waited till night and threw the old bag into the fuck’n river.

She would have gotten away with it too if it hadn’t been for her very own fuck’n mum and dad trying to rekindle their relationship under the very same fucking bridge!

I’m not fuck’n lie’n—read the fuck’n constable report!

Her mum and dad, afraid it could be pinned on them, turned Cooper in!

And, Cooper had fuck all for an attorney.

Well, a week later, she was taken to the gallows and hanged.

Again, if you don’t believe me—FUCK YOU.

And that my dears, is the story of Little Red Riding Hood.

Mikael Johnson

Mikael Johnson is a writer, performer and paralegal. He once hit (2) home-runs in a game while playing baseball in Europe—he may have “flipped” his bat after hitting the second one.

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