Once upon a time there was a sweet little girl who always wore a red hooded
sweatshirt. For this reason she was known to all her friends and family
as Little Red Hoodie. One day her mother sent her to bring her grandmother,
who was recovering from knee surgery, a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of
scotch. She set off down the street on her bike, but before she'd made it a
quarter of the way there, a wolf leapt out from around a corner.
"Where are you going, Little Red Hoodie?" said the wolf with a grin.
"I'm going to bring my grandmother some cigarettes and scotch,"
said Little Red Hoodie. "Why?"
"Well, I was just going to suggest you not go that way,"
said the wolf. "There was a terrible accident about half a mile
from here, and the road is blocked. You'd better take the back way."
"Oh, OK, I will," said Little Red Hoodie. "Thanks!"
And she rode off down a side street. Meanwhile, the wolf ran as
fast as he could down the main road and was at the grandmother's
apartment building in the blink of an eye.
"Who's there?" said the grandmother's voice when he rang the bell.
"It's Little Red Hoodie," said the wolf in a high-pitched voice.
"I've come to bring you some cigarettes and scotch."
"Oh, thank God," said the grandmother. "Come on up."
And she buzzed him into the building. He climbed the stairs
six at a time, crashed through the apartment door without knocking
and looked around for the woman, who was sitting in her wheelchair
reading Cosmopolitan.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" she screamed.
He jumped on her and was about to take a giant bite out of
her neck when, in less than half a second, she grabbed the lamp
from the table next to her and clubbed him over the head
repeatedly until she was sure he was dead. Then she went
back to her magazine. An hour or so later, the buzzer rang.
"Who's there?" she said.
"It's Little Red Hoodie," said the voice on the other end.
"I've come to bring you some cigarettes and scotch."
"Are you sure?" said the grandmother. "Last time someone told me that,
they were lying."
"No, it's me," said Little Red Hoodie.
"All right, come on up, then," said the grandmother.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and in came Little Red Hoodie.
She jumped at the sight of the dead wolf on the floor.
"Do you know this guy from somewhere?" said the grandmother.
"Um ... I might," said Little Red Hoodie.
"Thought so," said the grandmother. "I'll have you know he just tried to
eat me. That'll teach you to go telling strangers where I live.
Now go get rid of him, and then come back so we can watch Desperate Housewives."
Little Red Hoodie dragged the wolf's limp body out into the hallway
and over to the trash chute. It took some shoving to fit him down it,
but finally his feet disappeared and he thudded to the bottom.
Then Little Red Hoodie went back to her grandmother's apartment,
washed her hands and switched on the TV, and they both lived happily
ever after.