2471. Mr. B.B. Wolf

When Little Red Riding Hood bumped into the Big Bad Wolf in the forest she was very surprised.

“Goodness!” declared Little Red Riding Hood. “You are looking so tired, Mr. Wolf.”

“I’m feeling a bit exhausted, Little Red Riding Hood,” said the wolf. “I’ve spent all morning blowing houses down. First there was a house of straw and then a house of sticks. The third house, made of bricks, proved to be a real problem.”

Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf continued to chat away enthusiastically in the forest. Anyone who passed by would have been delighted to see how well the two got on.

In the end the Big Bad Wolf invited Little Red Riding Hood to his place for dinner.

“I’d love too!” said Little Red Riding Hood.

“That’s brilliant,” beamed the Wolf. “I do hope you like roast pork.”

Music 401: Little Red Riding Hood

Here is a piece of Dance Theatre – possibly for Christmas but not necessarily. It has 19 dances that tell the (fairly) traditional story of Little Red Riding Hood. In all probability it will never get done as these days the plot is regarded by some as sexist. However I present it in the hope that it might get performed in a less enlightened age.

The work has elements that rile many a purist. For example, there are bits of Ballet, bits of Contemporary Dance, bits of Ballroom Dance, bits of Folk Dance, and bits of Pantomime.

At present the music score is for piano only. I thought initially I would orchestrate it, but it is time consuming for something that may never be performed. So if anyone wants it orchestrated they can ask me or do it themselves! My music composing software is so old and the notation so small by the time I put all the instruments of an orchestra on a page that I can’t see it any more!

This posting is simply a link to a separate webpage that gives the plot, and audios and sheet music of the 19 dances. I’m not expecting people to listen to all 19! A performance would take about 3/4s of an hour.

Thanks! Here is the link: HERE!

1714. The incomprehensibility of tragedy

When Goldilocks broke into the Three Bears’ House she had to prise open a window. It came as no surprise to her that after all these years they had at last begun to lock their front door.

The first thing she did upon entering was to eat the porridge. As always one was too hot, one too cold, and one just right. Then there were the chairs to sit upon, and the beds to try. All this was done and she fell asleep in the third bed as was usually the case.

When the Three Bears came home they went through the customary rigmarole of who’s been this? and who’s been that? And there she was lying in Baby Bear’s bed!

She was dead.

“The poison in the porridge work!” cried Baby Bear, jumping up and down excitedly. “Hurrah! Hurrah!”

So enamoured were they with the success of their poisonous porridge that they let it loose on any character in any book they could lay their hands on. They became crazed with success. They became serial killers. First it was Humpty-Dumpty; then Little Red Riding Hood. Then it was Jack and Jill, followed by Snow White, and Mary Mary Quite Contrary. Before you knew it, it was Heathcliff and Cathy Earnshaw, then Lorna Doone, and Jane Eyre. Hamlet was on the list, as was King Lear. And finally came Winnie the Pooh.

Oh what a mistake that was!

What happened to Baby Bear? What happened to Baby Bear? They had murdered one of their own. It was an incomprehensible tragedy.

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.”

1116. Big Bad Wolf

Little Red Riding Hood was skipping her way merrily through the forest, holding a basket of food that she was taking to her grandmother.

Suddenly a wolf appeared from nowhere.

“What big teeth you have,” said the wolf.

“There’s no need to get personal,” said Little Red Riding Hood.

“What big feet you have,” said the wolf.

“Now you’re getting silly,” said Little Red Riding Hood.

“Let me look in the basket to see what you are taking to your grandmother,” said the wolf.

“Go away,” said Little Red Riding Hood. “I hate it when little boys dress up and follow me around like a bad smell.”

So the Big Bad Wolf scampered off. He would try to find Anita Alder. She was a scaredy-pants. She always screamed when he gave her a fright.

766. Pigs

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.”

Listen to the story being read HERE!