The Gingerbread Man

The reader might recall that the Realm had been flooded with a range of peculiar creatures. They were all the handiwork of the mighty Warlock. Had this been part of a huge scheme to bring misery or jeopardy to the various Kingdoms and their inhabitants? Was the Warlock merely in a creative mood, wanting to experiment with his powers?
No. The Warlock had simply been attempting to conjure up a female companion.
For the Warlock had never had a female companion before and, as he got older, really wanted to experience and cherish the tender company of a woman and maybe even engage in intercourse with them. Aided by his loyal and long suffering servant Plumtree, he had retired to his cave and spent many days working on bringing this to fruition.
However, his efforts met with little success as he created a whole lot of strange and mysterious beings including a Paper Ballerina, a crafty Wolf, a Piper who could hypnotize others using his instrument, a Golden Goose and, most pertinently, a Gingerbread Man.
The Gingerbread Man was a creepy looking creature with a questionable sense of humour, prone to making sexual innuendos in his high pitched voice. After insulting the Warlock, he had departed the cave and was let loose on the Realm.
He had found himself in a remote forest in the Realm, in which he happened upon a small cottage in a clearing. The building was on the edge of a village. It was notable for the large chimney on top of the thatched roof from which a long plume of smoke poured. The cottage was in fact a bakery and home and the workplace of a baker. The baker was a cheery old man, popular throughout the village and famed for his loaves of bread, his apple pies, cream cakes and gingerbread men. Indeed, he was currently baking a batch of the latter. He was in his kitchen, wiping the sweat from his brow after having placed the ginger dough figures into the oven.
The baker checked his pocket watch prior to reaching into the cupboard above the oven to produce a bottle of beer which he opened and took out onto the porch of the cottage. He sat down in his wicker chair on the porch, bathing in the bright sun while sipping the beer.
The Gingerbread Man had seen all this from outside the window of the kitchen. Watching the baker depart to the front of the cottage, he saw that there was a back door from the kitchen to his right. He couldn’t resist investigating so he opened the door and went inside.
He was curious about the heat from the oven and peered through the glass door to see what was baking. He was thoughtful for a moment before being disturbed. The baker had arisen from his chair and was returning to the kitchen from the porch. The Gingerbread Man hurriedly leaped out the back door and out of view of the baker.
The old man checked his pocket watch once again before putting on his thick oven gloves and opening the oven door. Leaning over, he pulled out the tray containing the gingerbread men. There were a dozen which he placed on a cooling rack. Carefully putting them in three lines of four, he once again departed the kitchen to go and sit back on the porch drinking the rest of his beer.
The Gingerbread Man remained outside by the kitchen door, unsure what to do next and still wondering about the little ginger bread men that were now on the cooling rack.
After about ten minutes, the baker re-emerged in the kitchen and began going through his cupboards, putting aside a collection of objects by the cooling rack on the working surface. Soon enough he had set to work with an icing piper and a small bowl of raisins.
Very soon he had finished his work, putting down his equipment and reaching for a second bottle of beer to go and sit on the porch yet again. The Gingerbread Man summoned up the courage to go into the kitchen a second time. He was immediately drawn to the little gingerbread men who all resembled him but were just much smaller. They had eyes fashioned with raisins, smiles using a deft swipe of white icing and little buttons down their midriff, either using raisins or dots of icing.
He could not resist picking one up and examining it. As he did so, he lost his footing on the kitchen floor and dropped the little gingerbread man. He looked down to see it broken into bits and pieces on the floor. Suddenly he heard the baker arising from his wicker chair on the porch. In a panic, he kicked the remains of the broken gingerbread man under the kitchen table and, seeing a pantry, opened the door and went inside, closing the door behind him quietly just as the baker appeared in the room.
The baker was about to take the gingerbread men through to the front of his bakery where he sold his goods in the shop window, when he spotted that there were now only eleven. He looked about the place in surprise.
“Dear?” the baker called his wife who was in the shop of the bakery. “Have you been in the kitchen?”
“No?” came her voice.
“You haven’t been greedy and taken one of my gingerbread men?”
“Certainly not!” the wife of the baker was now standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed.
“One of them has vanished!” her husband protested. “I made a dozen and now there are only eleven!”
“Are you sure?” she was dubious. “Maths was never your strong point dear!”
“I know the difference between a dozen and eleven!” he scowled.
“Maybe…” she hesitated. “Well maybe, it’s the old legend. You know, about the gingerbread man who came to life and ran away?”
“That’s just a story!”
“It might explain where it got to?”
“Well,” the baker grumbled. “If you are right, then the little scamp cannot have got that far. He’s only small after all! Maybe he’s hiding from us!”
There followed a brief search of the kitchen as the pair of them looked around the place, checking the bread bin, the cupboard and even the oven. Having not spotted the broken bits under the kitchen table, the baker was still mystified before opening the pantry door.
What followed was distressing. The rather bigger Gingerbread Man was standing inside.
“Coo-ee!” he said.
The baker howled in shock at the sight. The Gingerbread Man decided to use the distraction to flee and got out of the pantry to stand in the middle of the room. The baker doubled over and was clutching his chest having gone a worrying milky white colour.
“What’s wrong?” his wife prevented him from collapsing to the floor.
“What is that monstrosity?” he cried before glaring at the Gingerbread Man. “What have you done with the other one?”
“The other one?” the Gingerbread Man inquired.
“Yes! The gingerbread man I made. I baked a dozen! And the twelfth was not you!”
“I bet he ate him!” the wife of the baker straightened up her husband before pointing at the Gingerbread Man. “The fiend!”
“I ate him?” the Gingerbread Man said prior to breaking out into a laugh. “That would be like eating myself! I have always wondered what that would be like!”
“What are you talking about?” the baker winced.
“Eating myself? Get you! You filthy old man! As if I could reach down there! I’d break in half.”
“I’ll break you in half!” cried the increasingly frail baker.
“Ooh! Does your wife know about this?”
“Just stop it!” the wife implored him.
“Is that what you always say to him? No wonder he’s strayed!”
“Shut up!”
The baker was still extremely pale and had gone quiet. His wife wrapped her arms around him as he gradually fell to the floor. The Gingerbread Man watched as she checked his pulse before laying him down and sweeping her hand over his eyes so that the lids closed over them. She began sobbing.
“Oh dear,” the Gingerbread Man had a limited knowledge of the world including life and death but concluded that this didn’t look particularly good.
He looked down at the dead body of the baker and his grieving wife.
“You frightened him to death!” the widow wailed. “Hiding in the pantry like that!”
“Well…you’re well set up for the funeral,” remarked the Gingerbread Man. “You’ll have plenty in for the food and drink afterwards?”
He indicated the eleven gingerbread men on the cooling rack which made the woman sob even louder. Shrugging, he looked about the place before bolting out of the house and fleeing across the village.
Unfortunately, if you are a five foot tall gingerbread man wandering around the streets, people tend to notice. He came to the attention of several villagers prior to ducking into the undergrowth and heading deep into the forest.
A few hours later the Sheriff and the Mayor of the village were in deep discussion in the main square.
“I am told that this peculiar being was responsible for the death of the baker!” the Mayor cried.
“Yes,” nodded the Sheriff severely. “So his widow tells me. Apparently he was trespassing, stole a few items and then surprised the baker by jumping out and attacking him so that the baker succumbed to his injuries.”
“How terrible!”
“I know, the baker was loved by many in the village!”
“Yes, and I had paid him a deposit to cater for my daughter’s wedding banquet!”
“Did you?”
“Tell me Sheriff, I wonder if you know something?”
“When his funeral is?”
“No, can his wife…I mean his widow…bake?” the Mayor asked.
“I don’t really know.”
“I’ve ordered a hundred sausage rolls and the wedding cake itself! This is most inconvenient!”
“Nonetheless,” the Sheriff looked serious. “We must catch this monster. He’s still on the loose. We can’t have him at large, just popping up and attacking people. The widow tells me that he really is a deplorable character. As the baker lay dying, he made some obscene jokes at his expense.”
“Yes we should catch him!” enthused the Mayor. “Then we could use him for the wedding banquet! Yes, I am sure we could utilize him for biscuits or the base of cheesecakes for the dessert course?”
“With your permission Mayor,” began the Sheriff. “I would like to put a price on his head. One hundred gold pieces should do it.”
“Certainly!”
“I will try catching him myself of course but he’s a crafty bugger and quick. After being seen in the village, he vanished without trace.”
“He’s extremely dangerous,” agreed the Mayor. “And we might need him if the baker’s widow can’t bake. You go and put the posters of him up around the village promising one hundred gold pieces for his capture. But ensure it is made crystal clear that he must be caught in one piece. I don’t want him destroyed. We’ll decide what to do with the gingerbread once we have him in chains!”

The Gingerbread Man spent the night in the forest, during which he encountered several characters that he regretted meeting. 
Firstly, there was the Big Bad Wolf. Ironically, he too had been created by the Warlock as he desperately tried conjuring up a female companion. The Wolf had subsequently become a menace to some kingdoms nearby.

The Gingerbread Man had been resting beneath a tree by the stream running through the forest. Suddenly over the trickle of the water, he heard heavy breathing. He turned around to see the Wolf in the shadows, looking at him hungrily.
“What?!” the Gingerbread Man leaped up in shock.
“What are you?” the Wolf licked his lips.
“I’m the Gingerbread Man!” he backed away from where the Wolf was standing.
“Gingerbread?” the Wolf wasn’t impressed. “Like…biscuits?”
“Yes!” he nodded.
“How strange…” the Wolf suddenly seemed less interested in him. “I was looking for meat!”
“Oh well, you won’t find that here!” the Gingerbread Man shook his head hurriedly. “Just lots of sugar, ginger, butter and flour!”
“I see.”
“And bicarbonate of soda.”
“Maybe I could take a bite in case I find you tasty?” the Wolf shrugged.
“Oh no!” the Gingerbread Man insisted. “If you put me in your mouth, you’d find me really hot and spicy!”
“Really?”
“You’d get a burning sensation at the back of your throat.”
“Would I? Oh, I don’t like spicy food.”
“Yes, yes, a lot of ginger was used when I was made!” the Gingerbread Man nodded. “And not the powdered stuff. Grated ginger! I’d blow your head off!”
The Wolf was not known for his restraint but figured he would find prey elsewhere in the Realm and bid the Gingerbread Man farewell before heading off into the undergrowth.
After this close shave the Gingerbread Man decided to keep moving and so he travelled into the forest, in a different direction from where the village was and where the Wolf had gone. He ran along for a few miles before suddenly becoming aware of a noise nearby. It was the sound of a female crying out along with a man sighing. The Gingerbread Man continued in the direction of this sound, curious as to what it was.
As he got closer, the woman sounded more aggressive, as if she was giving someone orders. Meanwhile the male sighing and gasping just intensified. Finally, the Gingerbread Man came out into a clearing in the forest and was stunned to discover a man and a woman rolling around on the floor in the moonlight.
“Who are you?” the woman stood up and pointed at the Gingerbread Man before unstrapping an item from her waist which he couldn’t quite make out in the shadows.
“Yes, who are you?” the man arose, pulling his trousers up.
“I’m the Gingerbread Man!” he said cheerily.
“Gingerbread Man?” the woman looked him up and down before a greedy expression came to her face.
Now the reader might remember the events of when Prince Charming met the infants Hansel and Gretal who were, due to the neglect of their parents, abducted by a wicked old crone. Standing in front of the Gingerbread Man in this clearing in the forest in the moonlight were those very parents.
The reader might also recall that the neglect had stemmed from a mixture of laziness, avarice and poverty. Oh, and sexual gratification.
On seeing the figure in front of them, the man and woman could not hide their hunger and desire. The woman began edging closer to the Gingerbread Man. At first, his suspicions were not aroused until he noticed they both had a similar air as the Wolf had on initially meeting him.
“Are you made completely of gingerbread?” the man asked as he buttoned his trousers up.
“Yes, and icing and raisins,” nodded the Gingerbread Man who winced as he saw the woman licking her lips.
“Could feed a family of four for weeks!” remarked the man.
“Family of four?” the woman spat. “You must be joking! I am not going to share it with the kids! Those little brats don’t deserve such lovely food!”
“But they haven’t eaten for days!” pointed out their more conscientious parent.
“Sod em!”
By this point the woman was within a couple of feet of the Gingerbread Man. He had made up his mind. He was in danger.
He quickly leaned in one direction as if about to charge off there before a clever feint enabled him to step away from the woman and leap into the undergrowth where he shot away. The other two were overweight and unfit and therefore had no hope of catching him, giving up after a few seconds.
They returned to the clearing.
“That is a shame!” the man groaned. “We could have eaten fit to burst with him!”
“Assume the position!” the woman barked as she began strapping a certain phallic item back around her waist.
Her husband grumbled before unbuttoning his trousers.
The Gingerbread Man was starting to get the impression that the Realm was a dangerous and sinister place. As he headed West, he hoped that the Wolf and the couple he had just escaped from were merely just a few bad apples.

The Sheriff had put together a bunch of posters offering the one hundred gold pieces reward for capturing the Gingerbread Man. As he nailed the last one up on the notice board in the village square, he was surrounded by several locals. 
“Who is that?” one asked the Sheriff.
“The Gingerbread Man!”
“Who?”
“Haven’t you heard?” the Sheriff finished securing the poster to the board before stepping away from it. “He came through the village recently, after murdering the baker!”
“Did he?”
“Yes! So there’s a bounty on his head! As you can see, one hundred gold pieces!”
“I can’t see that working,” said another local.
“Why?” the Sheriff frowned. “Do you think we should offer more money?”
“Not that,” the man shrugged. “How is anyone meant to recognize him?”
“What?”
“The Gingerbread Man! Gingerbread men all look the same.”
“That’s a bit racist isn’t it?” the Sheriff cleared his throat.
“But they do! They all have raisins for eyes and white icing for mouths.”
“I see what you mean…” the Sheriff scratched his head. “But this one is five foot in height?”
“Nah…but from that poster,” the man pointed at it. “He looks no different from any other Gingerbread Man.”
“Apart from the fact he’s not the size of your hand and not laid down in the shop window of the bakery! Apart from the fact he’s five foot in height and running round the place. Otherwise, he’s completely identical!”
“Another thing,” a different local began indignantly. “Why are you calling him a Gingerbread Man?”
“What?” the Sheriff replied irritably.
“There’s no sign of them being male?”
“I didn’t invent the bloody things! A baker somewhere presumably did. We’ve always called them Gingerbread Men!”
“Bit sexist isn’t it?”
“Does it really matter?” the Sheriff snapped. “Don’t be a such a snowflake!”
“It could be a Gingerbread Woman,” said another villager. “There’s no sign of a winky!”
“Or,” added another local. “They could be transgender!”
“Or undergoing treatment!” 
“What?” the Sheriff was clearly baffled.
“From man to woman. Or woman to man…”
“So what are you saying?” groaned the Sheriff. “That I should call him…her…it…?”
“Them,” somebody corrected the Sheriff much to his annoyance.
“I think,” said one. “That we should call them the Gingerbread Person.”
“Gingerbread Person?” the Sheriff sighed.
“Yes!” there was unanimous approval among the group.
“But I’ve already done the posters…” the Sheriff said before realizing there was no point in arguing and he ripped down the poster and walked away to find the others that had been nailed up around the village. 

“Gingerbread Person?” asked the Mayor as he stood in front of one of the new posters which was nailed to the front door of the Sheriff’s office. 
“Don’t ask,” sighed the Sheriff. 

The Gingerbread Man or…ahem…Person…had been caught but not by anybody in the village or knowing about the price on his head. Instead, they had been spotted in the grounds of the Castle where the Evil Queen resided. Her guards had managed to throw a net over them and pin them down before dragging him inside the Castle. 
“Where are you taking me?” despaired the Gingerbread Man. Gingerbread Person. Gingerbread Woman…
Okay, dear reader, from now on while the characters in this story might wish to refer to them as neither a man nor a woman, we will continue to call them the Gingerbread Man. Is that okay? Yes?

Good.
On with the story.
“To the Queen!” one of the guards replied in a gruff voice.
“Ooh!”
“What?”
“Is this a game?”
“What?” the guard belted the Gingerbread Man around the head.
“Ooh! I like it rough! All part of the game though right?”
Somehow, using their raisin eye, the Gingerbread Man managed to wink at the guard.
“I hope her Majesty lets us eat it!” the guard told one of the others.
“I hope her Majesty lets me eat you!” giggled the Gingerbread Man.
“I hope her Majesty lets us hang it!” said the other guard. “They’re a right little freak!”
“I’d like to be well hung!” remarked the Gingerbread Man. “I bet you would as well? Although you probably already are!”
They summoned up another wink.
The four guards reached the main hall where the Evil Queen was sitting on her throne consulting her Mirror.
“Your Majesty!” one of the guards addressed her as they removed the net from the Gingerbread Man and slung them to the floor at her feet. “We found this peculiar creature in the grounds.”
“Oh my…” the Evil Queen turned away from her compact containing the Mirror and regarded the Gingerbread Man in surprise. “What is it?”
“He!” insisted the Gingerbread Man.
“Are you male?” the Evil Queen looked temporarily excited.
“Yes!” he said in a high-pitched voice.
“Are you sure?” she looked ‘him’ up and down.
“Yes!”
“I see no…well…” her eyes rested on his midriff. “No…confirmation of that?”
“Oh, not this again!” cried the Gingerbread Man. “I am male, okay?”
“You haven’t got a very masculine voice,” pointed out the Evil Queen.
“I am male!” he became more high pitched the more indignant he got.
“I suppose,” spoke up the sprite in the Mirror. “He is a gingerbread man?”
“I suppose,” conceded the Evil Queen.
“But owing to his lack of…you know what…I doubt, for once, that you will be the slightest bit interested in him?”
“Oh please!” the Evil Queen glared at her Mirror. “You go on as if I am some desperate man-eating old cougar!”
“Perish the thought.”
“I won’t try seducing just any man!”
“Especially if they don’t have genitals.”
“I’ve told you!” protested the Gingerbread Man.
“Hush!” the Evil Queen said before looking thoughtful. “While I am not going to do you the honour of marrying me, I am intrigued by you. I am wondering what use you might be?”
“A nice afternoon snack?” suggested one of the guards.
“How dare you?” the Gingerbread Man squeaked in horror.
“He does have a point,” said the Evil Queen.
“I thought him not having one was the problem,” remarked the Mirror.
“I mean come on…what are you?” continued the Evil Queen. “Are there others like you? Are you here in the Realm for a reason? Or just some sick experiment?”
“Sick experiment?” he cried.
“Yes? How did you come about?”
“I don’t…” he tailed off for a moment sadly. “I don’t know. I was made by a sorcerer I think. In his cave. That’s all I remember.”
“And then what?”
“I escaped and have been roaming the place ever since,” he explained. “And I must say, I really don’t like this Realm! It’s full of lots of terrible people.”
“Excuse me?” the Evil Queen glared at him. Or her. Or them.
“Not you, Your Majesty,” he whimpered.
“I should hope not!”
“Yikes!” said the Mirror. “Who exactly have you met to make her seem normal by comparison?”
“There was this horrible Wolf!” began the Gingerbread Man. “But I managed to persuade him not to eat me!”
“That Wolf is a menace,” said one of the guards to the Evil Queen. “He appeared in the Realm recently and has been tormenting all kinds of creatures.”
“There was him,” gulped the Gingerbread Man. “And then this strange couple who were doing something very odd in a clearing in the forest at night!”
“Odd?” the Evil Queen was puzzled. “What were they doing?”
“It was strange,” he or she or they said. “I’d never seen it before. Mind you, I’ve not seen much of anything.”
“Describe it?”
“Err…well…”
A minute later, as best the Gingerbread Man could, the incident with the parents of Hansel and Gretal had been explained.
The room fell silent.
“They were doing what?” the Evil Queen finally spoke.
“The woman was wearing this long wooden thing and shoving it in the man’s…”
“No need to go over it again!” one of the guards said hurriedly. “I am sure we get the picture.”
“What a thing!” said the Evil Queen. “I’ve wondered about whether that would be possible before…”
“I bet you have!” said the Mirror.
“Tell me…” continued the Evil Queen. “Were they enjoying it?”
“She certainly was,” nodded the Gingerbread Man. “Him, maybe not so much. But she seemed to like it that way.”
“They have some strange habits out in the more rustic parts of the Realm,” said one of the guards.
“I wonder if I could find a man to do that with?” the Evil Queen was thinking aloud a little more than her guards and the Mirror would have liked.
The guards all froze as the room went quiet once more.
“Unlikely,” the Mirror said before there was a sigh of relief from the guards.
“What did they do afterwards?” the Evil Queen asked the Gingerbread Man.
“Maybe they shared a pipe and spooned?” suggested the Mirror.
“They were interrupted by me,” said the Gingerbread Man. “It wasn’t long before they got ideas about eating me.”
“What? While doing that other thing at the same time?” the Evil Queen marvelled.
“I managed to escape in one piece!”
“This sorcerer,” the Evil Queen suddenly remembered what he had previously said. “What does he look like?”
“Oh here we go,” sighed the Mirror. “The mere mention of a man and she’s like a dog on heat.”
“Not at all!” snapped the Evil Queen. “I want to know who else out there is likely to be a rival to me!”
“A rival?” the Mirror stifled a laugh.
“Yes! A mighty sorcerer able to create a walking, talking man made of gingerbread!”
“This sorcerer sounds like he might be handy,” said the Mirror. “If not a little unhinged. But why are you comparing yourself with him?”
“Due to my prowess with magic of course!”
“I wouldn’t quite call it that,” replied the Mirror. “It’s hit and miss at best.”
“Where is this mighty sorcerer?” the Evil Queen asked the Gingerbread Man with a crafty glint in her eye.
“He was in a cave but I just ran away from it and that was a while ago and I don’t know the layout of the Realm or which Kingdom it was in.”
“So you can’t tell me the location?”
“No,” replied the Gingerbread Man.
“If you’re so powerful,” said the Mirror. “Why can’t you pinpoint where he is?”
“Magic and sorcery are not that straightforward,” the Evil Queen gave her Mirror a dirty look before returning to the Gingerbread Man in front of her. “So what should we do with this creature? What use is he?”
“He isn’t husband material,” said the Mirror. “Is new to the world and therefore has no special powers or skills.”
“I suppose so,” the Gingerbread Man was sheepish.
“So I guess it comes down to how keen you are on gingerbread?”
“Never really liked the stuff.”
The Gingerbread Man sighed in relief.