Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Riding Red Little Hood

Little Red Riding Hood in a purple dress combing her hair.

Lordy me, woe is me at that. I have just read several versions of the fairy tale of Red Riding Hood. (No fairies, and the wolf isn’t gay.) I also had to read several analytical essays ranging from the reasonable to the semi-deranged. Think of some hood (could be her father), riding little girls till they bleed – that’s how crazy some of the ‘Freudian’ deep thinking into what is a relatively simple tale.

The original earliest known printed version was known as Le Petit Chaperon Rouge and had its origins in 17th century French folklore. It was included in the collection Tales and Stories of the Past with Morals. Tales of Mother Goose (Histoires et contes du temps passé, avec des moralités. Contes de ma mère l'Oye), in 1697, by Charles Perrault.

Now, I liked this version because the wolf doesn’t mess about, and first eats the grandmother (yuck) and then LRRH. Serves her bloody well right. Loads of other versions have some hunter/woodsman riding (hah-hah) to the rescue. Load of bollix.

So, in a Last of the Rhodesians exclusive, and till now, never in print, is a German version from the Nazi era. I heard it about two decades ago whilst blasted out my skull in some dead-end knieper (pub), called the Oktoberfest. Don’t think this will be grim my brothers, this is the real shit.

So, translating, it sort of goes like this -

It was a dark and stormy night and when daylight broke, Frau Hitler said to her daughter

“Raus aus die sack, you lazy cow, and bring zee Oma her Pampers so she not wee in zee bed. And brush your hair before you go out.”

Fraulein Hitler did as she was told because the alternative was to be shot. Snatching up the only garment she owned, she traipsed out looking like some hoodie in red drag. Schlepping four dozen, get one free, pampers from Lidl she wandered off in the direction of the Black Forest, very mindful of her mother’s warning.

“Don’t dilly-dally and talk to any Jews. They are all wolves in stolen clothing”

Being slightly hacked off that she had to visit Oma (who did smell of wee), instead of playing with her Nintendo Wii, the fair maiden took her frustration out on a couple of fairies she caught dogging behind a tree and kicked the dirty dogs to death.

The Black Forest is full of green trees and sure enough after a while she spotted a wolf amongst them. He was actively busy wandering around in a small circle. (We are not sure how we know it is a he wolf, but that is legend.) Anyway, the wolf was just getting his leg ends into place when Fraulein Hitler (er…we don’t really know what her first name is), said, in a voice full of fear (no idea what that looks like, but Dan Brown uses phrases like that, and he has made shit loads),

“Herr Wolf, wat are you doing?”

The wolf, shuffling around a bit, arched his back till it looked like the Sidney harbour bridge, and bulged his eyes till they almost popped out his skull. Not quite finished with the ritual, he then curled his cruel lips cruelly back, exposing glistening fangs of saliva dribbling fangs and… er, teeth!

Fraulein Hitler then expressed horror and some more of that fear mentioned previously.

“Gott in Himmel, what huge eyes and teeth you have! I am sure you vant to gobble me all up and down”

The wolf, (who incidentally wasn’t Jewish, but a Russian Orthodox Siberian wolf who was positively gay until the annoying Fraulein turned up), was forced to pause in his twice daily ritual (depending on his diet), and howled Hitler a woeful heil-

“Can not a wolf have a shit in peace and not knots of interrupted pieces of faeces?”

The End.

Well, erm…where is the moral in this story? I am open to all suggestions.

Please note: To write such unadulterated crap takes years of study at university. If you have any complaints; keep them to yourselves or the tabloids.

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