Cynical Tales for Cynical Children

by Timothy Ahern

  7

  Without question he could have done a better impression of Red. Rude mockery however, was his favorite kind.

  8

  Apparently it adds a certain piquancy to the meal. This advice, however, should be taken with a pinch of salt due to the fact I am not in the habit of eating people, even for research purposes, and am therefore forced to rely on second-hand accounts.

  While the villain of the story slumbered without a care in the world a hunter, who had spent most of the day wandering about the forest attempting to track down the wicked and oversize wolf9 who had been terrorizing the area lately.

  "Finally, I'll be able to get a drink and have a rest. This wolf hunting is thirsty work" He knocked on the door but the wolf, who was sleeping off such a heavy succession of meals, didn't wake up “does anyone actually live here? It's not on the map and it doesn't look like a witches cottage” he peered through the window and caught sight of the wolf napping peacefully on the bed. “holy heckfire! The wolf!”

  The wolf didn't even have the dignity of any kind of last words before both barrels of the hunters largest guns were emptied into his head with a pair of deafening reports “got you at last monster!

  You'll not be preying on anyone in this forest anymore and once I take your skin as proof I'll be well rewarded! ”10

  The first slice of his sharp knife split the dead wolfs stomach wide open and the hunters eyes widened in shock as Red and her grandmother spilled out onto the ground

  “Look at the mess you’ve made all over my bed! Who's going to clean it up? Muggins here that's who”

  “Pay no attention to her” Red said to the hunter and twirled her fingers around her ear “she's been through a lot today”

  “I saw that young lady!”

  “It's alright” the hunter said “I understand. Encountering a wolf does tend to leave one a little addled”

  “Addled? We were eaten alive you foolish man!”

  “Something that won't be happening again thanks to me. The wolf is gone and there's no more danger in the forest, which means that there's nothing for me to hunt” he concluded sadly Much later, as the sun went down Reds mother arrived at the cottage. She was out of breath and worried because her child hadn't come home. After she learned about what had happened she thanked the hunter warmly, invited him to their house for dinner and set off down the path to their own house.11

  “We must always keep to the path mum” Red observed as the three of them walked through the forest

  “and never stop. that way we'll come to no harm!”

  Reds mother nodded in agreement and sagely forbore to point out that she'd already told her daughter the same before all this had started.

  9

  Almost a kind of big bad wolf one might say?

  10 This hunter sounds a little too excited to be permitted to wield any weapon more dangerous than a sliced banana.

  11 Leaving poor sick granny to clean up the remains of the wolf.

  EXCOGITATION

  •

  Is it wrong to trust the mother less than I trust the wolf?

  This is a woman who sends her daughter through a wolf infested forest with nothing more than a basket of cakes. Realistically speaking the only way she could have made things worse would have been tying a ham around her daughters neck and screaming “Victim here! Victim here!”

  •

  Why doesn't Red lie to the wolf?

  She's knows not to talk to strangers and has a bad feeling about the wolf as soon as she meets him. So why doesn't it occur to her to spin some story about how she's really going off to the Huntercon. The annual hunters convention where she hopes to win first prize for hunting down wolves who block paths and ask highly suspicious questions.

  For his part the wolf might start thinking about going off to hunt those butterflies, the pair part ways and nobody is suddenly devoured.

  •

  If the wolf could just lift the latch why did he waste time talking to Red?

  It looks very much as though he didn't know grandmas house was there and while he opened the door easily enough the enthusiasm with which he was being hunted reveals he is new to the area and in the process of establishing his territory.

  •

  Exactly how quickly are Red and Grandma being digested?

  The wolf has time to eat granny alive, set the trap for Red and then likewise swallow her entirely before drifting off to sleep. I'll accept they were rescued by the hunter although realistically speaking the gastric juices would surely have started work on the pair12.

  •

  What would the wolf have done if Red hadn't mentioned the impressive teeth her grandmother was sporting?

  Given the amount of theatricality the wolf is displaying with his grandma disguise it's entirely possible he would have kept on hinting at things until Red was left with no choice except to deliver the classic line “Oh what big teeth you have”13

  When you take into consideration the long list of differences between a wolf and a grandmother I think Red might have been able to keep him occupied just a little longer if she'd only being taught the difference between wolf and human that is.

  12 Maybe they were both wearing little red HAZMAT suits this whole time.

  13 This being, as I say, the classic line. This version has, I feel, somewhat snappier dialogue.

  RATIOCINATION

  Given how her mother points it out at the start without even the courtesy of saying “Spoiler alert” it would seem the lesson is out there in the open right?

  “We must always keep to the path mum” Red observed “and never stop. that way

  we'll come to no harm!”

  I'll grant you this much, as lessons go it's a good one and teaches children how to be safe out there in the actual world. Although I do have to wonder, is it really safety this story teaches or is it conformity?

  By never leaving the path and always making certain you conform to the expectations of society you'll never experience life beyond a warm and blinkered imitation. To stretch the metaphor to its breaking point if we'd all followed this lesson then the world as we know it would be considerably different. Air travel? Ships? We'd be lucky to have barely moved past domesticating animals to say nothing of being able to deal with wolves of any size or moral caliber.

  Thankfully this story constantly undermines its own lesson and does it far better than I ever could since Red discovers all those wonderful things by going off the path. If she hadn't gone off the path she wouldn't have encountered the wolf or kicked off this series of events which led to his ultimate downfall.

  So there you have it.

  “Take risks. Tackle the world head on to see who's tougher and if, at some point, a

  giant talking wolf pretends to be one of your relations be sure to ask it a few

  family questions before opening the door. At the very least pretend to make an

  effort and look out the window”

  THE THREE BILLY GOATS GRUFF

  In which rival groups clash with disturbingly predictable outcomes.

  Barriers. Those things which, depending on who you know, can impede or expedite your progress and something many people don't know is barriers come in two different types. The first are the mental barriers which are certainly daunting but ultimately exist only in the confines of our collective psyches and may be overcome with the assistance of the three X's which is to say eXpensive doctors, eXtensive therapy and an eXpansive range of drugs.

  Physical barriers to personal goals are erected for a wide variety of reasons and largely exist to inhibit a persons person growth or for reasons of safety. What most people don't realize is that physical barriers, while just as daunting as mental ones, can be overcome with the aid of jetpacks.

  With this in mind I ask you to consider trolls. If you happen to ask twenty random people about what scares them eighty percent of the answers will be 'goats' ten percent will say 'forum moderators' and the rest will back away slow
ly wondering who this strange person is and why they're approaching random people in order to ask about trolls.

  It is therefore, relatively safe to say this story has made something of an impression on our narrative evolution and would appear to be yet another retelling of what families are able to achieve when they work together although if one cares to scrape away the narrative topsoil it isn't difficult to see the values of a gang culture which has, frankly, been present in the story since the first once upon a time.

  echnically speaking our story begins with once upon a time. Although given the vast number of goats, bridges and trolls in the world it's inconceivable to think this situation hasn't happened more than once upon a time. There are, however a limited number of Twriters in the world which goes tends to explain why it is there aren't more stories about goats, bridges and trolls.

  Is it possible to digress in an opening paragraph? I take the opportunity to digress from this digression in order to return to a narrative I haven't actually begun.

  Anyway for want of a better opening, once upon a time there were three goats and for the purposes of identification there was a small one, a medium one and a big one. They lived in a large field and were happy1.

  Wait. Did I say they were happy? How silly of me, what I should have written was they were happy and despite the fact their field was filled with grass, clover and everything else goats enjoy there was another field which had nobody in it and looked considerably greener than the one the three lived in at the moment.

  “I'm sick of living in this field” the smallest goat finally declared one day “can anyone tell me why I shouldn't just walk over the bridge and claim the other field as my own?”

  “Because the bridge is owned by a troll” the eldest brother commented around a mouthful of grass

  “and if you try to cross then you might care to consider the fact we're no longer the four billygoats gruff ”

  The smallest goat accepted this somewhat brief explanation although he quickly lost all passion for his current field and spent many long hours standing and watching the untouched green field and the small, well made bridge connecting the two.

  1

  Aside from cursing the fact they didn't even have real names. “If only our story had a wolf in it” they would occasionally complain “everyone in wolf stories always gets a name”

  “You guys are a pair of liars!” he concluded during the hour of frolicking north “there's no troll down there, there's not anything at all. I've been watching it for days and haven't seen a thing”

  “Then there's nothing stopping you from going over to the new field and claiming it as your own” both of the older goats were thoroughly sick of listening to the young goat going on about the field they could all see and not get into.

  “Yeah, except don't come crying to us when the troll jumps out and eats you. Seriously kid, it's best to stay here where there's enough grass, space and a complete lack of things wanting you for dinner” the oldest goat pointed out laconically “who am I to stop you though?

  Short of a glove slapped across the face there had never been a more obvious challenge and it took the smallest goat approximately negative three seconds to accept it as such.

  “Looks like we're down to the two billygoats gruff ” the oldest brother mumbled as he tore at a particularly tasty section of grass

  “Never really liked him much anyway” the other goat didn't bother to look up from his nap.

  “There's no such thing as trolls. There's no such thing as trolls” the small goat repeated to himself before stepping onto the bridge with a shaky determination. It only took a few steps for him to be proved wrong when the largest troll to be included in this book emerged from the underbridge and leered down at his latest victim2.

  “No such thing as trolls you say? There's a mistake which will cost you your life”

  “Please sir don't eat me. Isn't there anything I can do?”

  “What like appealing to my sense of mercy? You can save your breath 'cos I'll tell you now it won't work. I don't have any”

  “What can you do that would be worth the trouble of eating me? I mean look at me, I'm tiny”

  “You are fairly minuscule” the troll agreed “I was thinking about something savory or a nice goat soup”

  “Its the middle of summer. Far too hot for soup” in the manner of a true gourmet the goat was less outraged at the prospect of being the main course than he was at the prospect of being subjected to such a culinary crime.

  “You have a point little fellow although I'll remind you gazpacho is also an option, goatzpacho in your case, only put yourself in my shoes. If I let you get past me then my reputation suffers and people stop respecting me. No respect means I got to be even meaner than I already am and that's just a hassle for everyone. So since nobody wants this to happen I think we can both agree that it's better if I just eat you now”

  “Wait! I've got a brother and he's bigger than me”

  “He's not here though. You are”

  “No, not right now he's not. You know what brothers are like though, they can't stand the thought of someone having something he doesn't and when he sees me in your field he'll be down here like a shot”

  “I suppose” the troll thought about it “if you're acting as bait then it wouldn't harm my reputation.

  You do realize this ends with me eating your brother?”

  “What? Oh yeah, knock yourself out. We're not really that close” the smallest goat quickly crossed the bridge while the troll was lost in a reverie concerning freshly roasted goat.

  It took two days until the brothers noticed their youngest sibling was alive, well and the only one able to enjoy the fruits of the most perfect location since the garden of Eden which was, coincidentally enough, another place they wouldn't have been able to get into3.

  “I can't stand it! Tell me exactly how the heck the little squirt managed to get the whole field to himself?”

  “Obviously he got past the troll” the eldest goat mused “he may have been smarter than he looked”

  2

  He was also the smallest troll to be included in this book for he was, in truth, the only troll included in this book.

  3

  Although, to be fair, the guard on duty there would be unlikely to eat them.

  “To hecking heck with it all!” the middle goat swore “if that hecking brother of mine can do it then so can I” and without bothering to find out what his remaining brother thought about it or even apologize for his hecking language he walked over to the bridge.

  “Your brother was right. You're much larger than he was” the trolls smile revealed many jagged and freshly polished teeth “I'm in the mood for goat curry tonight, what do you think?”

  “Is that how he got past you?” the goat asked in disbelief “so much for hecking family values”

  “I agree, it's such a shame when families fall out. Now if I go and get my knives do you promise not to run off?”

  “You're forgetting something”

  “I don't think I am”

  “What you're forgetting is I also have a brother and he's even larger than I am”

  “Seriously? You're just as bad as the other one”

  “Same hecking deal ogre. You let me go past and in a few days my hecking brother will come along, make a curry out of him if you want. I guarantee you'll have enough for sandwiches tomorrow”

  “I'm not an ogre” the troll sounded a little hurt as he stepped aside “there was even a footnote about it.

  I don't know if I really want to eat you anyway since I'm pretty certain all your swearing will spoil the meat”

  “Like I give a flying heck”

  It was another two days before the eldest goat got tired of watching his brothers in the other field and made his way down to the troll bridge.

  “Your brothers weren't kidding. You're the biggest goat I've ever seen”

  “I eat my vegetables” the goats flat smile looked just as
sinister as it was supposed to “I don't suppose I can get past?”

  “I don't suppose you can. The truth is your brother sold you down the river, after being sold down the river by your youngest brother”

  “I don't have any older brothers to offer”

  “Even if you did I wouldn't care. My skinning knives are freshly sharpened and I'm so hungry I might just have to invent goat sushi and eat you raw” the troll reached out with confidence and to the surprise of nobody except him the eldest goat managed to evade his long reach after which he proceeded to do the one thing for which goats are so well known.

  “To HECK with you!4 ” even across the short distance the charge held enough force to pick up the troll and send him flying into the river where he was swept away and never heard from again.

  4

  To be fair he didn't actually say “Heck” and in point of fact none of the hecks in this story have actually meant, well, heck. The fact is there is no way in the proverbial heck any book which contained real goat swearwords would ever get published.

  EXCOGITATION

  •

  Why doesn't the troll just hunt the goats?

  He obviously knows they are there and they know he's under the bridge5. So as a trap it isn't a good one although the goats have to sleep sometime and then it's all a question of stealth

  •

  Why didn't the troll come back with a lawyer?

  Like it or not a contract was made and, although verbal contracts are notoriously difficult to enforce in a court of law, Mr Troll will certainly be able to get some justice when the judge hears about how he was thrown out of his home6. By my count the only who doesn't get eaten is the smallest goat.

  •

  Why doesn't the troll come back with Animal Control?