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by Rob
Rated: E · Other · Comedy · #1805347
A humorous retelling of the classic fairytale Little Red Riding Hood
Little Red Riding Hood Retold

By Robert King


I just want to note; I suck at poetry
So please don't expect this to be a masterpiece,
I'm just quite pleased that I got rhymes, you know?
Now without further ado, please read on friendo!

One sunny day the sun shone quite bright,
And there sat a young girl, not known as Snow White,
But rather her nick-name was Red Riding Hood.
Her mother then gave her some nice smelling food

"Now take this to Grandma" Her mother had said,
"She's not feeling well and is stuck in her bed."
So she left through the doorway which was ridden with nails,
And it started to rain; not surprising, in Wales

As she walked down the path and into the woods
Farmer Jones said "Hello miss Red Riding Hood,"
"Careful out there; the woods can be scary."
"I'm a big girl now, you man who is hairy!"

So Red Riding Hood continued her travel
Along the bumpy path made out of gravel
Suddenly a wolf appeared out of no-where
He spoke with a stutter and had dirty grey hair

"H-hello l-little girl," The wolf had said,
scanning his eyes from her feet to her massive forehead
"Where are you going, on th-this d-drizzly day?
"Skipping along, s-so happy and gay?"

"You sayin' I'm gay, you stupid old coot?
"I'll kick you up the arse with my Nike boot!"
"N-no not at all!" He said hastily,
"I meant it as happy, look in the dictionary!"

"Oh righ'" She said "Tha's alrigh' then"
The wolf sighed with the relief and said his name's Ben
"I think maybe that you should take this detour,
"You'll get, much faster, to your Grandmother's door!"

So Red Riding Hood went down the mud path
And saw a tree carved with the random word "WRATH"
That had no relevance, so carrying on,
Red Riding Hood realised that this path was quite long.

Meanwhile the wolf knocked Grandmothers door,
"Oh do come in dear." She said in mid-snore,
So Ben crept within, and up to her bed,
As she said some nasty words the Wolf gobbled her dead.

In his time in the house the Wolf ate all her goods,
And turned off the lights in the house in the woods.
He slept for a few hours in the blood covered bed,
And found Grandma's gun stash outside, in the shed.

He geared himself up with a rifle and ammo,
And got some grenades that would make a "KABLAMMO!"
But off in the woods Riding Hood had other plans;
She'd harnessed a minigun and a little boy called Hans.

Now as Red Riding Hood approaches the house,
The Wolf hides behind sandbags, keeping look-out,
Riding Hood knocked the door saying "Grandma, It's me!"
The wolf mimicked her voice: "Come in; it's free!"

The door was kicked down and bullets started to fly.
They both knew right there that one of them would die.
The lumberjack in the woods turned and ran away,
He ran all the way for the whole live-long day.

Their ammo ran low and Little Hans died,
"You tosser, I'll kill you!" Red Riding Hood cried,
But the Wolf was too speedy for her obese legs,
And he got behind her and pelted her with rotten eggs.

"HAHA! Now you smell!" The Wolf pointed and laughed,
"Like over-used socks, and stale old farts!"
"Maybe, but still not half as bad as you!"
To which Wolf replied with a rude word for "poo."

They both reloaded, minigun versus rifle,
Off in the corner sat Grandmamas trifle
Red Riding Hood smiled and said "My one's bigger!"
And the wolf sniggered childishly as they each pulled their trigger.

Now Riding Hood diead and Wolf gave a cheer,
And celebrated now with a gallon of beer.
I'm not quite sure how but Wolf's still alive,
And Riding Hood's not quite so... Umm... Alive.

Now just so you know, I've ran out of rhymes,
And this poem was a complete waste of your time,
I suggest you stop reading, before you go nuts...
Mmm.... Peanuts...
What? I told you I'd ran out of rhymes!


(I actually wrote this originally for a thing we did at the end of year 9 with Ms. Watkins and I never actually handed it in, which was probably a good thing because, even though she knows the kind of crap I tend to put in my stories and poems (e.g. in a story about a soldier with PTSD I had a basket of dirty pants fall on him in the middle of a flashback), this probably took the mick a bit too much. Pointless trivia about the origin of this pointless poem!!!)
© Copyright 2011 Rob (rking at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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