Little Red Riding and Robin - Hoods

21/02/2012 06:14

Little Red Riding and Robin - Hoods

 

Carrying her wicker basket along the forest's winding path to grandma's house, Little Red Riding Hood (so called because of the cape she always wore, clasped at ther throat by a golden brooch, made by mountain elves and cast in the shape of a dragon with its penis in its mouth that ,if you looked hard enough, would grin back at you and wink conspiratorially), was wondering whether to go straight there as her mother had ordered - a wise precaution on account of the wood bandits - or go the long way round which was prettier and slightly more dangerous (though it offered the possibility of meeting 'the legendary Robin Hood', as her boyfriend was proud of describing himself, although he was only seven and hadn't yet learned how to count further than that yet), decided to go 'straight there' as her mother had recommended and take the long way back in the hope that the slightly more dangerous route might produce such delicious dangers as staring deeply into one anothers' eyes and sitting so close together that their knees touched.

 

 Tripping along gaily beside the violets and primoroses that, nodding their heads at her in a way that was very similar to the conspiratorially winking tail-eating dragon brooch clasped at her throat, she began to daydream, looking about her at the dark trees of the forest as, tall, straight and majestic, their leaves golden and suntanned, purpled and glowing, occasionally falling about her, onto her, and into her basket, cloak and surprise of surprises, right into her little hand insdie her very own tiny pocket where she gripped tightly onto it and made a wish because the catching of leaves even by accident was an auspicious omen that invited the catcher to work a bit of luck magic for his or herself.

 

 'I wish that Robin would marryme and that I could have everything I want when I want - just  like he can,' she said to the trees and flowers, standing up straight and holding her arms aloft, span round three times, her head getting rather dizzy and, feeling like she had to sit down, sat down - thump! - in the middle of the path, senses swimming, the purple golden green leaf held up in front of her eyes which, slowly focusing, filled with silvery light and jubilation as, who should she see striding merrily towards her along the rudely beaten track but Robin himself, red-faced and sharp-eyed, holding his bow aloft in triumph and excitement, his right hand containing a scrawny rodent he'd ambushed a few minutes ago while it was sunning itself on a hillock in front of a sun-warmed rock that, careful not to arouse the 'wee sleekit tim'rous beastie's sense of danger, Robin had crawled up to and, without even thinking about stringing an arrow to his bow, which anyway only had those little red suction cups on the end that, if you licked them, stuck to  paintwork and windows, hit it with a rock, the unprotesting creature, which turned out to be quite a fat mouse, eatable probably, he assured himself, despite the fact that the rock had squashed it pretty near flat and squelched all or most of its insides out of it to lie in stringy pools of red stickiness all across the greensward, then finding itself impaled upon one of the arrows from the quiver, it all looking a bit silly really, Robin having had to remove one of the red-sucker-tips to skewer his flat, messy prize with, and then replace it afterwards,a not very plausible trophy by any stretch of the imagination.

 

 'Hola!' he cried, thrusting the almost rat into the face of the besotted maid bent on marrying him, 'I killed it myself,' he proudly flourished his toy bow from Woolworth's, 'it put up a terrific fight I can tell you,' he enthused, 'but after a horrendously touch-and-go struggle I managed to overcome its fearsome jaws and rapier-like claws to emerge as the bloody-but-unbowed victor.'

 

 'It's very flat,' she examined the diminutive and diminished corpse, Robin her boyfriend having hit it not once but four or five times with the rock - just to be sure you know - because it felt kind of good and, well, the damn thing wouldn't stop squirming about till he'd walloped it a few times good and hard, beating the shit out of it quite literallyin fact, 'what did you do,suck it to death?' she licked the sucker on the end of the piece of dowling with the notch at the end of it for the bow's nylon string, looking up at him with big baby blue eyes in a way that was oddly discomfiting, alluring and promisingly suggestive of something he wasn't quite sure he wanted to get involved in - yet.

 

 'Will you marry me?' she asked, 'I have a wicker basket with some cakes and oranges and rose-hip syrup that I have to take to grandma, but you can come with us and say 'Hola!' to her if you like and she might give us some choc-lit.'

 

 'Maid Marrying isn't in my line - yet,' quoth Robin, 'but I'll take your wicca basket,' he thought he was being very clever here and, hoisting it onto his shoulder, hoisted the willing damsel up from the soily turf and dragged her happily blushing furiously all the way to grandma's house, singing this song as he went along;

 

                                                                        'Hola! Apples and Pears,

                                                                        I've unzipped a Banana,

                                                                        Hola! Peaches and Plums

                                                                        I've had Bananarama,

                                                                        Hola! Oranges and Grapes,

                                                                        I've said Abracada-bra

                                                                        Hola! Lemons and Limes

                                                                        I've...na nah na na nah nuh!

                                                                        Hola! Melons and.Pot!

                                                                        Forever Carmina Burana!'

 

 'Hola!' Red would cry, holding her cape out like a matador goading a bull, and Robin would make little horns with the index fingers of his hands on top of his head and rush at her in mock earnestness as if ready to gore and trample her with the hooves of his sturdy woodsman's hobnail boots that his mother'd bought from Stead & Simpson's rather than the Dr Scholl's she'd wanted for herself because, though incredibly flat,ugly, clumpy-looking lumpish things, they were so comfy and pleasant to wear, and besides Robin needed new shoes all the time because he would go into that wood with that girl and play 'bullfighters' all day without giving a thought to his poor mum at home wondering where he was and what he was doing and who he was doing it with and hoping it wasn't anything illegal or sick, she suddenly got worried and started glancing fitfully at the clock on the mantlepiece every fifteen or twenty seconds, remembering how he'd once cooked snails in a bonfire with no intention of eating them, just to see  how he would feel about it afterwards, as it were, and the other time when he'd stuffed all manner of weird things he'd caught and killed into a jam jar where they'd festered and deteriorated for months because he'd told everyone it was an important experiment he was conducting upon the slug, worm, bug and lepidoptera population of his mother's rockery.

 

 'We've arrived cried Red, slipping the latch on the cottage gate and running up the crazy paving of the broken sandstones that led to her grandma who, standing inside her open door, appeared to be greeting them with a big smile, a ferocious display of eye-rolling of the 'Lawdy, lawdy, where've you been chil'?' variety and endeavouring to disguise what looked like a very bad wig inside her bonnet which, spotted withyellow and red spots with smiley-miley faces on them, gave the whole grotesque vision the look of something from inside somebody's bellybutton when they hadn't washed for a week, and grandma's response to Red's greeting was to beckon the pair onwards and inwards to sample the unspecified delights of the interior of her peculiarly foreboding abode.

 

 'She's getting a bit long in the tooth these days, isn't she Red?' Robin observed, staring hard at the great teeth in the rather elongated jaw and the tongue lolling out of the side like askew stair carpetting,' and those rotating eyeballs are suggestive of B.S.E., the mad cow's diseased for sure,' he opined, peering into the innermost recesses of the bonnet and noting that most of the hair inside consisted of a pair of Big Ears tied in a knot over the top of granny's skull, 'I hope she hasn't got Noddy in there too,' he hoped, 'and she badly needs a shave, especially on her tits,' he exclaimed, observing a veritable forestry commission undertaking poking out of her bodice allover the place, 'my,what big feet you've got grandma,' he told her.

 

 'All the better for kicking you in the conkers,' grandma cried, suiting word to deed and, demonstrating reflexes better than André Agassi, booted Robin in the balls (love all? - ed.), causing the poor unfortunate to double up in agony and hop about the floor like a mobile wall bracket looking for a shelf to hold up,grandma springing rather too spryly for s septuagenarian upon her granddaughter's  wicker basket and wolfing down its contents in next to no time like a ravenous wolf, 'Owoooooooooh!' granny cried and, booting Robin again for good measure, bounded athletically about the furniture, grunting, snorting and champing on bits of orange pips still sticking between her teeth screaming 'that ball was in!' before 'the legend', straightening up to his full height of about four feet nine inches, battered her on the head with a cricket bat he'd noticed lying about the floor between the ottoman and the writing bureau, crying, 'Na-na na-na na-na na-na, na-na na-na na-na na-na Batman!' as he did so, repeatedly for about ten minutes until grandma's head was just a pulpy splodge on the sofa he'd been bouncing around on before he'd brought bat and venerable old lady's head into violent contact with each other, as is the way of young hoods everywhere when they feel threatened by something they don't understand and which, if they tried to, would probably tear off their heads and stick them up their own bottoms.

 

 'Robin, you're a wonder,' Red enthused, pulling off granny's undegarments to reveal the coarsely haired tumescence of a wolf in borrowed clothing and, forcing herself not to let the boy wonder see just how interested she was in that horripilating exterior went through to the bedroom of the tiny thatched dwelling to where the real grandma Hood was to be found, tied to a brass bedstead,all naked and wobbly, but with a great big smile on her chops and a tongue like an askew piece of stair carpetting hanging loosely salivating from the side of her mouth while her eyes rolled around at speed inside their sockets and she mumbled incoherently,'There's a good doggy, attaboy, would you like some cho-clit?' over and over again, her hands flapping vaguely and her legs flopping around as if trying to prevent something from remembering it'd happened.

 

 'She's not wearing anything,' said Red.

 

 'If she is it wants ironing,' said the Lincoln Green bedecked hero of the bat, prodding at her crinkly breasts with the handle end of his makeshift bludgeon,'shall we untie her or..? he left the unspoken question hanging in the air where it thought about what it was going to be and then hit Red with all the force of an inspiration, her tiny cheeks burning crimson, the buds of her breasts pushing hard against the fabric of her smock, swallowing hard and fighting to protect hereself from baser instincts that whispered deep dark longings for revenge, centering mainly on all those bloody long jaunts through the forest and back, bearing panniers of comestibles like some overused pack mule, to be rewarded only by a square of choc-lit no bigger than a postage stamp of very low value indeed and summarily dismissed as soon as the old crone felt the urge to use her commode and fall asleep, which always occurred immediately after the feast that had begun almost as soon as Red had deposited the contents of her basket onto the kitchen table, her grandmother gathering the whole between her arms and, slapping away all Red's attempts to partake of the picnic herself, greedily gorged herself silly in no particular order; spam being followed by semolina, which was in turn succeeded by a dish of prawns, perhaps to be superceded by croissants and raspberry jam, topped off with sausage rolls and, as dessert, ice-cream with cabbage and broccoli.

 

 'Let's do her ironing,' she suggested.

 

 Afterwards, the pair, slightly breathless and dishevelled from all their hard work, decided to go walkabout for a while and cool themselves off in a nearby stream where they could dive off a tree trunk that lay athwart the current into the clean green depths of the waters below; unfortunately, a midget called John Little had had the same idea, and was 'standing his ground' on the log when they arrived, waving his 'staff' threateningly and making hissing noises between what teeth it had, but Robin, unperturbed, simply grabbed the midget's 'stave' and, holding him up by it, cast the squealing pint-sized small fry into some  prickly thorns growing on the bank of the beck, where whoopping and hollering, cursing and crying out for half-an-hour or so, the tiny irritant disturbed their enjoyment tilll Red, annoyed beyond all bearing, threw river rocks at the offensive bush until the sounds of pain and protest ceased.

 

 'Hola! Stop that girlie!' came a voice from the trees at the other side of the rushing waters, and a fat tonsured monk ambled out into a clearing where, huffing and puffing, he continued, 'Or I'll blow your house down; oh,sorry, wrong fairytale, how about, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Sox, I command you to cease and desist this unseemly behaviour.'

 

 'Are you talking about Red's socks that have 'made in Boston' tatooed on their instep,' Robin wanted to know, 'or is it something to do with the stoning of the midget, noone will miss it, you know? Besides, it was stopping us from enjoying ourselves.'

 

 'What midget?' Trya Fuck wanted to know, 'I'm talking about the 'no nude  bathing' signs positioned at strategic points all about the river bank and inside the river as well as written up there in sky writing, he pointed downwards at the reed-concealed array of green lightbulbs from Woolworth's beaming up the confusing message 'nude bat' and upwards at a group of planes busily criss-crossing each other to write 'No nude bat' all over the previously unbroken cerulean imperiousness of the heavenly order, 'it's a crime punishable by Sucking's Tool,' he flopped out a rather huge penis from his cassock.

 

 'You mean Ducking Stool?' Robin suggested.

 

 'You can have that and I1ll have the other,' replied the fat monk, picking a plank up fromthe long  grass,balancing it on a log near the bank so that one end sank into the rippling waves while the other stuck up in the air at an angle of 45 degrees;

 

                                                                        'I saw Esau sitting on a see-saw,

                                                                        I saw Esau withmy girl,

                                                                        I saw Esau sitting on a see-saw,

                                                                        Giving her the merry whirl,

                                                                        I saw Esau, 'e saw me,

                                                                        I saw red as 'e saw more,

                                                                        I got a chainsaw and I sawed Esau,

                                                                        Haw-haw-haw-haw-haw-haw-haw!'

 

 Robin, strapped to one end of the ducking stool, faced the back of Red who, strapped to the other end on the bank was facing Trya Fuck exposing his prodigious penis, leering expansively, jouncing up and down making Robin's teeth and jaw jar and wrench alternately, his brain bouncing around inside his skull like a pea in a baby's rattle as, eyes unable to focus, Fuck explained to him what was going on.

 

 'Your girlfriend, 'Holy Sucks' was how you described her, wasn't it Boy Wonder? Well, she's on the sucking stool end of the see-saw and you're on the ducking stool end; if she sucks my tool, you won't godown into the river, that is,' he leered expanisvely once more, 'if she goes down, you won't - clear?' and, without waiting for a response, the tonsured ogre pushed his feet hard against the ground while Robin closed his eyes tightly, expecting to plummet into the depths at any second; unfortunately, Trya  Fuck was so fat his end of the see-saw remained firmly rooted to the river bank, it rising only a few meagre inches before leadenly dropping back into the grooved trench caused by the monk's huge bum.

 

 'Hola!' cried a voice from some other bushes apart from the one the midget had gotten stoned in (I wondered about that smoke; thought you'd set him on fire as well - ed.), and a Knight on a Snow White's charger came galloping into the clearing, the legend MAP blazoned on his shield and a metre-long double-headed Viking battle-axe in his hand which, twirling aloft like a majorette's baton, he dismounted, walked across to the fat Trya and, bellowing, 'Hola!' once again, watched impassively as the spinning battle-axe descended through the 'No nude bat' sky writing, rewriting the script as it did so, so that it read 'No Fat Fucks Allowed', and returned to Earth, lopping off the Fat Fucks head and burying itself weightily in the make-shift see-saw, catapulted Robin into the air where the knight caught him, hugged him, sat him down next to Red, cut their bonds, gave them a full grin -and did his twinkling impishly thing.

 

 'Who are you?' Robin wonderingly asked.

 

 'Uh-huh,uh-huh,' Red goo-eyed him.

 

 'I'm you from the far past that is the future that is present always,' said MAP, 'come to rescue you in your hour of direst direness - loik,' he chortled, 'aren't you the least bit grateful?'

 

 'Thanks,' said Robin.

 

 'Goo,' improved Red.

 

 'Take care,' said MAP, leaping astride the horse charged to her Majesty Snow White, 'and - Have A Nice Day!' he dug his spurs deep into the flanks of the Pegasus, shouted 'Hey ho! Silver! Away!' and shot skywards like a Hawker Harrier VTOL jet, hovering only to write on the sky a last farewell missive, 'Fancy a fuck?' - and was gone.

 

 'Gee,' improved Red even further.

 

 'I was like that once,' said Robin cunningly.

 

 'Wasn't he a nice man?' Red improved to the point of articulate speech.

 

 'Just another Glory Hound.We both knew I'd turn up to free us, I'd arranged it with ourselves a long time ahead,' Robin told her, 'you can thank me properly later when you get to be my wife Snow White.'

 

 'But I'm Little Red Riding Hood,' complained Red.

 

'Only till you lose those rosy cheeks, now stop whining and have a bite of this apple I have in my rucksack.'

 

 'I'll bite yours if you'll bite mine,' Red dimpled cheekily.

 

 'Hola!' screamed a voice frombehind a tree just in the nick of time.

 

 'Oh no!' moaned Robin 'It's Alan a' Dale's brother Chip 'n.I hope he hasn't brought Scarlet Willy the VD victim along with him too.'

 

 'He's a victim of venereal disease?'

 

 'No, he's addicted to video discs, CDs featuring Sidhes, the elven folk humping themselvessilly on PCs, that is, on Pixies; and masturbating along with the action, which is why his willy is always scarlet, he rubs it till it bleeds and all the skin comes off in his hands.'

 

 'And why don't you want to see Chip 'n?' Red wanted to meet both of them - of course.

 

 'He's a computer addict, thinks if he stays too long away from the screen he'll lose his connection with something he calls 'Cosmo' who, according to Chip 'n, keeps linking him up to different programmes without his permission, so he's wandering about the forest now trying to find someone who'll help him with the software he wants, someone like you probably.'

 

 'Ooh,how...er...distasteful!' she lied unconvincingly.

 

 'Hola! too,' squealed a second voice and VD victim Scarlet Willy appeared, wearing what appeared to be a red velvet codpiece but what was actually a wraparound piece of hospital gauze stuffed with cotton wool to soak up blood from his self-inflicted wounds, and standing alongside him but slightly to the rear, a shadowier figure, head cocked perpetually to one side, as if expecting instructions or expected unexpected expectations.

 

 'Are you naked?' squeaked Red in her turn, standing up and opening her cape.

 

 'No,' said Scarlet, fumbling painfully at his groin and frowning hard.

 

 'Nice piece of software,' Chip'n offered, 'how much Robin?'

 

 'Not for sale at any price,' declared Robin stoically, 'how much've you got?'

 

 'How about six Sidhes and a Pixie?'

 

 'Two blondes, two redheads, a brunette, and a black.'

 

 'Black girl or black-haired?'

 

 'One Afro-American, one French, one Chinese, one Russian, one Indian (sub-continental) and one Japanese, the Pixie has to be a Thai boy.'

 'Okay, it's a deal.Six CDs to play with your PC.'

 

 'Just joking.Red stays with me.'

 

 'Mmf!' said Red, and 'Pfui!' she grumbled rebelliously.

 

 'Scuse,' mumbled Scarlet, 'I have to bathe my genitals', and so saying leapt fully clothed into the limpid green pool, instantly staining the waters red and poisoning all the fish which, turning belly-sideup, floated miserably downstream in despondent droves, helpless to escape the nets of the fishmeal factory's fishermen who, usually employing dynamite to achieve the same stunning results, put their TNT back in their pockets and the fish into the barrels already ready and waiting to take them to the plant that would grind them up tomake animal fodder and diseases like BSE and AIDS.

 

 'Time we were getting off,' decided Robin.

 

 'Oo-er!' giggled Red.

 

 'Want to come Chip 'n?'

 

 Chip 'n didn't even deign to respond, simply cocked his head on one side, stuck his finger in his ear, said 'Tin-a-ling-a-loo,' cocked one eye at the sky, one at the space  between his legs, announced 'Led Zeppelin CD Houses of the Holy,'The Ocean', and began nah-ing: 'Nah nah na na na na na nah, nah nah na na na na na, nah nah na na na na na, nah nah na na na na na...and thanks Cosmo,' and everyone stood in amazement as twin goldenhaired and naked rock nymphs clamberedout of the water and  began sunning themselves innocently on some boulders by the riverbank.

 

 'Nice software,' said Chip 'n, 'how much?'

 

 'You're a right nana,' Robin opined,'let's go Red' and together the pair dressed and setoff down the rustic track that would lead to the home of Little Red Riding Hood.

 

 They'd gone quite a long way before they were interrupted again,which was a great pity from Red's point of view who'd managed to get as far as holding onto one of Robin's sleeves and staring longingly into his left ear occasionally.

 

 'Hola!' thundered the voice of a black-bearded giant that Red had taken for some kind of underpass of the Spaghetti Junction variety near Birmingham,U.K., 'have you anything to share with me?!' whether it was a question or a command was hard to tell, 'if you have I'll just take it away from you and you can travel on unmolested until you have something else I want,' it declared in a low reasonable tone.

 

 'That's completely unreasonable,' Robin protested.

 

 'Look, I'm trying to be a reasonable man here,' said the giant.

 

 'It's the 'Share if''' whispered Robin 'letme deal with it.'

 

 'Okay,' Red whispered softly back, 'I have nothing anyway.'

 

 'That's what he is, the 'Share if' of Nothingham, it's a town near here where nobody has anything because they had to 'share it' with him,' Robin jerked a thumb upwards at where he presumed the giant's head might be and, taking Red, much to her delighted surprise, bythe hand, dashed headlong between the giant's legs, breaking the tiny-tots world 200 metres record in the process -at least for the three-legged race, the giant perplexed by this sudden move, turning its head around ratrher too quickly for its own good and, suddenly feeling a bit dizzy, toppled over backwards, its shadow hurtling towards our terrified heroine and hero like a dark cloud of misfortune, until suddenly there was a huge crash and a burst of brilliant sunshine and they were free of the darksome forest, the giant 'Share if' lying stilled and broken in their wake and the door of Red's mum's house opening invitingly before them, her grandmother sitting knitting on a bench at a garden table waving at them and saying 'Hola! Thank you for doing the ironing,' and her mother looking quietly and thoughtfully out of her black little eyes in her round little face bearing a tray of delicious pastries and sweetmeats, while her father and brother, folding and unfolding their arms, looking at one another as if not knowing what to make of anything anymore, it was all so unpredictable, simply said 'Hola!' in unison and sat down together on a bench in the furthest part of the garden as if hopeful that this was all they'd be required to do for a good while yet.

 

 'Hola!' cried Robin, feeling a bit embarassed at the sight of this huge throng of people and edging his way back in the direction of the wood that was his home.

 

 'Hola!' cried Little Red Riding Hood, grabbing onto his sleeve and throwing him over the hedge and into the garden, 'See what I found in the forest!'

 'Can he speak or is he just going to lie there?' demanded her father.

 

 'Nnnff!' garbled Robin,a mouthful of soil preventing him from contributing to the discussion.

 

 'Notmuch,' said Red, 'but he knows how to flatten a mouse with a rock.'

 

 'Anyone who doesn't like computers can't be all  bad,' declared grandma wisely.

 

 

 'He's just a young hood, isn't he?' said her father, in a worried fatherly way.

 

 'So'm I,' said Red, 'we were made for each other, don't you think?' and the reluctant suitor, who was already dreaming up an escape plan involving a moonlight elopement,a rapid exchange of rings under the unholy auspices of Trya Fuck and a flight out of the county of Nothinghave with its policies of 'if you share we'll letyou live, but if you don't we won't!'

 

 'Let's share our love with each other,' said Red kindly, propping the coughing, spluttering and drooling Robin up against the fence amongst the rhododendrons where noone could see what they were doing.

 

 'If - ' Robin gurgled, spat and wretched a few times before vomiting bits of garden onto her smock.

 

 'Are you circumcised?' she demanded.

 

 'At birth,' he told her, 'I had an enormous penis but the doctors thought it would make me 'too cocky by half,' and worrying my mother about what the neighbours would think of her having a son with a humungous whang, they chopped it in half.

 

 'And thereby hangs a tail,' Red mused.

 

 'Who killed cocky Robin?'

 

 'Who killed Robin's cock?' she empathized.

 

 'At least they didn't castrate me too,' he murmured,caressing her hair, lips,cheeks and...cheeks.

 

 'Have you heard the AC/DC CD 'Ballbreaker'?' She glanced sideways at  his groin.

 

 'No,' he had to admit.

 

 'Good,' she said, 'and you never will, I promise.'

 

 He pressed lips to hers, which were firmly shut too, and would remain that way till she'd licked him into marriageable shape.