The Country Apple and the City Apple February 26, 2009

Once upon a time, an apple lived at the top of a very tall tree way out in the countryside. He spent his days blowing in the wind, counting the clouds as they passed through the sky, and trying to swing from his branch to the next one up.

One day, word came to him that he had had relatives. Once “relatives” had been explained to him, he learned this much: a cousin, an apple from the city, was coming to visit him in the tree.

His cousin arrived the very next day. He took her on a tour of his branch, pointing out the sky, the higher branches, and the few other apples who rested near him. His cousin apple was very polite, but did not seem impressed. He wondered how much grander life as a city apple might be, and jumped on the offer as soon as his cousin asked if he might like to see the city with her.

They spent the next day carefully climbing down the tree (especially carefully, because he had heard rumors that the apples near the bottom often went missing) and making their way toward the city.

His cousin’s house, it turned out was, way up high as well. After enjoying the songs and dances that seemed to go on in the city (what his cousin called a parade), the cousins climbed up what appeared to be another tree, they nestled on top, with oranges and bananas and pears and berries.

“What is this place?” the banana asked.

“We call it the Hat.”

He spent quite some time talking with the other fruit, and simply enjoying the wonderful city sounds and smells that drifted by him.

But then, something happened.

Something dreadful.

Just as the mango was launching into a story about a play she’d seen, a long-fingered hand reached up and plucked her from the hat. All of the fruit fell silent in horror, listening to a horrible crunch below.

After that, chaos erupted. The apple was hardly able to find his cousin as all the fruit ran around in circles. But find her he did, and he told her that as nice as the city was, he’d prefer to return to his own tall tree, where he was never in any danger of being eaten.

But when he returned home, a funny thing had happened.

The tree was still there, but all the other apples had gone.

Somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard a crunch.

The End.

Source: The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse, Aesop

The Two Bears and Stuart February 22, 2009

Once upon a time, a family of two nice bears lived in a house in the woods. It was quite a nice house, with bay windows and a foyer and well suited furniture, and the bears were quite pleased with it. They were pleased with their lives on the whole: they loved to drink tea and go for long walks, and they finally had a pet of their own: a lovely duck billed platypus named Stuart.

One day, they had taken Stuart on one of their lovely walks when something unusual happened. In an uncharacteristic bout of carelessness, the bears had left their front door unlocked, and an uninvited girl wandered in.

The girl had no idea that she was in a house that belonged to two bears. She only knew she was hungry and sort of sleepy.

So, first, she went to the refrigerator. In it, she found two servings of pot roast and mashed potatoes. She sampled the first, but it was too tough. She sampled the second, but it was too soft. On the bottom shelf, she found a casserole made of shrimp, crayfish, worms, and what appeared to be small frogs. She had a taste, and was surprised to find that it was exactly what she wanted.

She ate the whole dish.

Even more tired now, she walked into the living room, where two chairs sat in front of the hunter-skin rug. But the first was too high. The second sunk too low. Desperate for some rest, she sat down on the small cushion at the end of the rug, and found it just right.

Soon, though, the open mouthed face of the hunter staring at her began to make her uneasy, and she decided to move on. On her way out, though, she spotted the bedroom, and figured she could stay a few more minutes. She was still quite tired, after all.

But the first bed was too firm.

And the second too soft.

Finally, she climbed into the burrow carved into the side of the wall. Although at first she found it hard, she realized that with the cushion from the living room, it could be made into quite the excellent napping space. And curled up there, she did indeed fall asleep.

She woke later to the sound of growling, or maybe clucking. All she knew was that when she opened her eyes, something with a furry head and the bill of a duck.

“That’s Stuart’s bed,” someone said.

“And his cushion.” someone else said.

“And his food is gone. Did you eat our pet’s food?”

The girl looked from one bear to the another, and finally, to their duck billed platypus, Stuart.

She was very, very confused.

The End.

Source: The Three Bears, Fairy Tale.  First appeared in print by Robert Southey, 1837.

The Angry Duckling February 19, 2009

Once upon a time, a duck laid five eggs. Normally, this would not be an event of much significance. However, one egg was slightly larger than the others, and took slightly longer to hatch. The other ducks waited impatiently, complaining that their brother or their sister was very tardy indeed.

Finally, the egg hatched, and out came the ugliest duckling they’d ever seen. They’d seen admittedly few other ducklings, since they had after all just been born only minutes before, but this duckling was impressively ugly.

As they grew up and met other ducklings, their belief that their brother was in fact a very ugly duckling was confirmed, and they began to mock him, tease him, make up songs about his big head and squashed bill.

After a little while of this treatment, the ugly duckling decided he deserved better, and set off to make his fortune.

First, he moved in with some geese, who tolerated him as long as he promised not to make any moves on the lady geese.

Next, he tried his luck with wild ducks, figuring they would be more accepting of his physique. They were not.

Finally, he joined a farm where a cat and a hen seemed to be in charge of everyone else. Although life on the farm was comfortable, and the duckling enjoyed watching the humans who lived on it, the cat always seemed to be licking his lips, or researching good duck recipes, in his presence The duckling decided to keep his time there short.

So, before he left, he observed carefully, and learned how to use a computer. From that point on, the duckling, who had long resolved to make his own way in life, since everyone else just wanted to mock or maybe eat him, worked harder than ever.

He bought stock.

He learned how to program.

He worked all day and all night on new software, software he patented and then sold for millions of dollars.

He became a software mogul, with a corporate empire. He had thousands of employees, every last one an ugly duckling.

The End.

Source: The Ugly Duckling, Hans Christian Andersen.

The Killer Robot Wife February 15, 2009

Once upon a time there was man who worked in a junkyard.  He was happy enough with his life and work, but still dreamed of one day making enough money to forget about the junkyard, or any other work, forever.

Now, most of the time he spent his days making sure piles of waste did not topple over each other or defusing potentially dangerous situations. One day, however, he came upon something he’d never seen before: a robot. A real robot, with dull red eyes and an antenna protruding from its head. The robot lay slumped against a pile of pizza boxes and used needles, with a panel on its back hanging open. The man shrugged, and kicked the panel back into place.

He was already walking away when he heard the beep. And the next beep. And the next, followed by a sound of gears shifting. He turned to see the robot standing just behind him, focusing its now bright red eyes. He barely managed to escape the lasers shot at him before running home. Being attacked by a killer robot, he reasoned, warranted a sick day.

When he went back to work the next morning, the robot was gone. But still, it had been such a shocking event that he thought about little else until something happened that made him forget all about it.

A woman came into his life. A beautiful woman, too, with pale skin and slick black hair. She asked him for a date, and soon, she’d moved into his home. He couldn’t have been happier about the whole thing.

Until, of course, she presented him with a gift, her specialty, she said: a supercomputer. It ran fast and processed multiple applications with no lag, and worked more intuitively than any computer he’d used, ever. He loved it almost as much as his new live in lady friend.

Until, of course, he saw an opportunity for things to get even better. His new supercomputer had attracted quite a lot of attention, and he found himself considering the offers of several people to sell the computer. Finally, he got an amazing offer: for a brand new better than anything ever before computer, a mysterious stranger would pay him enough to retire happily.

But, she said no. She said his computer was the only one she meant to make. She said making another, better, one would take too much out of her. But it was a great opportunity, and so he kept hounding her until she gave in, mentioning in an offhand passive aggressive sort of way that the effort might even kill her. Or him.

She made him promise one thing: that he wouldn’t try to watch her make the computer, no matter how long it took or how curious he got about it. He promised, and was content.

Until, of course, the project started to drag on. She was way off schedule, and seemed absentminded, forgetful, slow moving. He just wanted to see what was wrong, so he opened the door.

And sitting at the workbench was the robot. Her front panel was open, wires pouring from her chest into the half completed computer sitting in front of her. But when the robot saw him there, she closed the panel and faced him completely.

Her eyes began to glow red.

The End.

Source: The Crane Wife, Japanese folktale

Beauty and the Boar February 12, 2009

Once upon a time, there was a boar.  A great big, kind of mean looking, boar with long pointy tusks and dirty fur. The boar lived all alone in the forest as far as he could tell, and that was just fine with him.

One day, however, the boar was sniffing around the ground for food when he heard something. Behind him, there was a man! Standing on two legs, bending down and digging into the ground himself! The boar was so startled, he ran straight for the man, grunting and snuffling.

Th man screamed, and flung the plants he’d dug up into the air. After a few sniffs, however, the boar realized he was not interested in eating the man. He just wanted him to leave.

“I’ll give you anything you want! Just let me live!” the man yelled. The boar grunted.

“I have a daughter. Take my daughter!” the man yelled. The boar grunted.

“I’ll bring her here tonight!” the man yelled, and ran away. The boar grunted, glad he was gone. He spent the rest of the day looking for food, then went to sleep.

Usually, the boar woke up with the sun. But tonight, something was different. Tonight, someone was crying. The boar woke up and sniffed. A few feet away, a girl sat right in the middle of his favorite patch of grass. That wouldn’t do. He walked over and grunted at her.

“Oh, you must be the terrible beast!” she cried, wiping away her tears. “And how ugly you are! How horribly ugly!” she cried. The boar grunted.

“But I suppose you’ll never let me leave, not since my father promised you I’d stay. I’m meant to be your bride, I’m sure!” The boar grunted.

“Oh, but of course you’re under a spell!” the girl said. Why wouldn’t she move? ” One kiss, and you’ll become a prince again, and we’ll live happily ever after!” The boar grunted, then squealed, because suddenly the girl’s arms were on his head, her face pressed against his snout.

“Now, my prince!” she called, and pulled away. The boar grunted, and then trotted away. If she wasn’t going to move, he was just going to have to find somewhere else to sleep.

The End.

Source: Beauty and the Beast, traditional fairy tale.

Rabunzal the Rabbit-Girl February 8, 2009

Once upon a time, a cranky witch got new neighbors. There was an even crankier woman who happened to be with child, and her husband. Now, the witch had the most fantastic vegetable garden in the whole village, which she protected with a giant wall and her general cranky attitude. Everyone in the village knew to stay away from the witch’s garden, no matter how plump her tomatoes got, or how brightly her yellow squash shone.

Everyone, except, of course for the new neighbors.

The witch knew they were sneaking into her garden at night, stealing her prize carrots. She was almost insulted to think they thought they were fooling her. Finally, it got to be enough.

The child had been born–the witch could hear it crying. She also heard a rustling in her garden, and walked out to find the man from next door filling his arms with carrots. He immediately fell to his knees and begged, agreeing to give her anything she wanted, even his own newborn child, if she would only not cast her spells on him. So she agreed, thinking it a joke, but the joke was on her.

Apparently, the girl had been born with the two longest ears anyone had ever seen. They stretched from her head nearly to her toes, just like a rabbit.

At first, this was a welcome surprise. The witch realized she’d been a little rash to agree to the proposal, and that she didn’t know much about raising children. Having a pet, on the other hand, was a challenge she felt up to.

So, she named the girl Rabunzel, and kept her in a large hutch. She fed her carrots and lettuce, and affixed a water bottle to the side of her hutch.

This worked out well for some time. But one day, the witch noticed something. She’d never had a rabbit problem before, but suddenly, they were everywhere. Eating her vegetables, digging up her plants, sniffing around Rabunzal’s hutch. Something had to be done.

So the witch built a tower that reached high into the air, and built Rabunzal a new, bigger hutch atop it. Whenever she needed to feed the rabbit-girl or bring her more water, she would signal to the her to let down her ears and then she would climb up. For a while, it was just like old times.

Things were going so well, she ignored the rustling at night, the sounds that sounded suspiciously like bunny hops, the faint outline of teeth marks on her tomatoes.

She tried not to notice that Rabunzal seemed less excited to see her, did not wiggle her nose as frequently, did not devour her carrots like she used to.

But she couldn’t ignore it any longer when she returned home to see rabbits, white and brown, and black and tan, scampering up and down the tower! The hutch door was open, the hutch itself empty. In the dirt, amidst the the rabbits hopping away, she could make out several sets of two large feet, as if a giant rabbit had long hopped away as well.

And yet, when she returned to her house, one carrot, carefully chosen, lay on her table. She knew the rabbit-girl might hop back to her yet.

The End.

Source: Rapunzel, Brothers Grimm

The Boy Who Cried Hippie February 3, 2009

Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a quiet, hilly village, just the sort of green and sunny place people who want to feel closer to nature find themselves vacationing in. Now, the first thing to know about this boy was that he was bored. He was home for the summer, and he’d read all his books, played all his video games, and watched all the TV he could deal with. He’d taken to wandering around the village, watching the sheep or the shopowners graze or sell their goods.

The first thing to know about the village was that they were all desperately afraid of hippies ever since many years before, when a hippie convention had descended on a area nearby, filling the air with burning incense and the incessant sound of drum circles. So you’ll understand why several of the more prominent townspeople came running when the boy insisted he’d seen a hippie approaching, a drum under his arm and dreadlocks in his hair.

There was, of course, no hippie. The boy had finally found an exercise to keep him occupied. He went home laughing after the townspeople had given up on their search for the rogue hippie.

The next day the very same thing happened, except this time, to keep the townspeople in a state of alarm, the boy claimed he’d seen two hippies, a male and a female, which meant of course, the possibility of something very dangerous: baby hippies. Again, no such hippies were found, and the townspeople went home grumbling about the boy’s lying ways.

By the third day, the boy had grown tired of the game. He decided to instead climb a tree, and found that when he had gotten up in the branches, he couldn’t really jump down. No matter– he didn’t have much else to do anyway.

But then, something happened. In the distance, the boy heard a sound that sent chills through him and the tree alike: drums.

Sure enough, a muu-muu clad, drum playing, dreadlockied hippie settled under the tree and began to beat on his drum without any sense of melody or music. Just an endless, incessant beat. Desperate, the boy called everyone he could think of from the town (on his cell phone. This wasn’t a long time ago, or anything), but no one would help him.

“We don’t believe you!” they all said, and hung up on him. And so, the boy was forced to sit in the tree, listening to the hippie’s song, until early the next morning.

The End.

Source: The Boy and the Wolf, Aesop