Tag Archives: folk tale

2186. Traditional fairy stories

Once upon a time there were two children – a brother and sister – and their wonderful father, who was a king and wore his crown even to the toilet, remarried – to a woman who was really a witch and cut off the children’s legs with a saw so they couldn’t wander into the forest.

She told their father that a bear had chased them and she saved them just as the bear had bitten off their legs. The king was so pleased with his wife saving his two children that he took his crown off and plopped it on his wife’s head.

“From now on,” said the king, “we shall co-rule the kingdom together.”

To celebrate her promotion the wicked stepmother cut off the head of the boy. She then wiped blood all over the ermine she was wearing to make it look like she had been in a tussle with a tiger in an effort to save the boy.

Next she hung the girl upside down from the stubs of her legs and drilled a hole in her head so that blood dripped out until she died. Then she went to the king and told him that she had tried to resuscitate the girl but she was too late to stop the Prime Minister from his murderous intent.

“If I had more of my kingdom to give,” said the grateful king, “I would bestow it upon thee.”

“You mean to say you are keeping half the kingdom for yourself, you selfish monarch?” declared the wicked stepmother. She pulled out a pistol and shot the king in the head dead.

“I am the sole ruler of this kingdom now,” declared the widowed woman.

When the Prime Minister heard what she had done he had her tied up and burned on a huge fire that had been lit to celebrate the Kingdom’s National Day. Just before she burned to death she threw a fabric she had woven over the Prime Minister. It had magic qualities and he turned into a bat and infected everyone with a fatal virus. Then the wicked woman’s ashes were scattered down the hole in the castle’s outhouse and everyone lived happily ever after.

Repeat of Story 766: Pigs

(This is the seventh story in a week or so of repeats. “Pigs” first appeared on this blog on 15 November 2015.)

It constantly amazes me how wrongful misinformation has been perpetuated down the centuries. The Three Little Pigs’ names were Marjorie, Eleanor and Constantia. Clearly, because they were builders by profession, the sexist yesteryears couldn’t bear to think of the pigs as females. Book illustrators portrayed them in men’s clothing for eons.

There they are now, all crowded into Constantia’s brick house.

“Go away, you dirty Big Bad Wolf,” bellowed Marjorie from the upstairs window.

But who is this appearing? Why! It’s Little Red Riding Hood on a horse!

“Hands up!” shouted Little Red Riding Hood, pointing a gun at the Big Bad Wolf. Little Red Riding Hood flung back the red hood.

“He’s a boy!” snorted Eleanor excitedly. “Little Red Riding Hood’s a boy!”

“Yeah,” said Little Riding Hood, “my real name is Jason. I have no idea why they paint me as a girl.”

“Save us!’” cried the Three Little Pigs. “Shoot the Big Bad Wolf!”

Little Red Riding Hood pulled the trigger and shot the Big Bad Wolf dead.

“The Big Bad Wolf won’t be chasing you three chicks again,” said Little Red Riding Hood. “That’s the end of Celine and her fearful marauding.”

1267. Sleeping Beauty

So, Sleeping Beauty had a bit of apple stuck in her throat and she had fallen asleep and everything had grown rampant over her castle and ninety years later a macho handsome prince came along with a machete and knocked back the vegetation then kissed the princess who woke up. It was ninety years later silly.

She was all wrinkled and looked like death warmed up.

752. All Hallows


(Today, in some Christian traditions, it is the Feast of All Saints. Some call it All Hallows. It is where we get the word “Halloween” from: “All Hallows Evening”. To commemorate this day I’m going to re-tell a traditional tale from Italy. I didn’t make it up; but it’s one of my favourite folk stories! It could be added that hagiography is a genre that today rightly suffers – mainly through its own fault – from a great deal of unpopularity…)

Saint Joseph was married to Mary, the Mother of Jesus.

There was this man who prayed only to Saint Joseph. He completely ignored God, and Jesus, and everyone else. The only person he ever prayed to was Saint Joseph.

Eventually the man died. Saint Peter met him at the gates to Heaven.

“You can’t come in,” said Saint Peter. “You only ever prayed to Saint Joseph. You never prayed to God. Only those who prayed to God can enter.”

Saint Joseph appeared at the gate.

“Let him in,” he said. “If you don’t, I’m taking my wife and Kid elsewhere.”

Listen the story being read HERE!