Come on, now. You knew I was going to write a fractured fairy tale for Susanna Leonard Hill’s contest, right?
And as I sat, staring at my blog, a fish fairy tale came to me. (You probably saw that coming, too.) But as I wrote, another fairy tale came to me, and then another, and …well, you’ll just have to read for yourself:
A Fishy Tale
One spring day, a fish was swimming in its stream. He heard footsteps on the bridge above.
Knick-knack, knick-knack went the steps.
“Hey!” the fish roared in a bubbly squeak. “Who’s that knick-knacking across my bridge?”
A little girl peered over the bridge. “It is I, Little Red Riding Hood. I’m taking goodies to Granny’s house.”
“Give me your goodies or I shall eat you up,” said the fish.
“Hmph,” said the girl. “You are a fish. But since you are hungry, I will give you a few crumbs.”
She tossed a few crumbs and then crossed the bridge, turning right at the fork in the road.
Soon, the fish heard soft padding across the bridge.
“Who’s that softly padding across my bridge?” squeaked-roared the fish.
“It is I, the Big Bad Wolf,” said a very scary-looking wolf. “And I am going to eat you up!”
“Wait,” cried the fish. “There is a much tastier morsel than I. If you take the left fork in the road, you shall find a sweet, little girl.”
The fish was pleased that he had directed the wolf in the wrong direction. Alas, he had sent the wolf down the shortcut to Granny’s. But that’s a story for another day.
Soon, three little pigs skipped over the bridge.
“Who’s that skip-skipping over my bridge?” squeaked the fish. (It was a busy bridge, and his roar was quite given out.)
The third little pig, known as the brains of the bunch, baited a hook. “It’s the Three Little Pigs,” said the third pig. He tugged at the line and up came the fish. “And we will have a fine dinner today.”
“Wait,” said the fish. “I will grant you a wish if you let me go.”
“Whee!” said the first piggy.
“We want roast beef for supper,” said the second piggy.
“Done,” said the fish. “Turn left at the fork. You’ll find lots of nice, red meat.”
The two piggies released the fish.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” said the third pig, who much preferred fish to meat. He stormed off the bridge, tripping over a stack of bricks. “Hmmm,” he said. “These bricks will come in handy.”
The pig worked all day, laying bricks at the fork in the road. When he was done, he had a swell seafood restaurant and two little piggy waiters.
Plus all the business he could possibly handle.
Bet you didn’t see that coming, right?
(I hope you have a chance to read more of the fractured fairy tales this fine weekend. And P.S. It’s not too late to write your own!)