Once upon a time, in a remote forest in the Kingdom, there lived a family. There was a mother, a father and their two young children Hansel and Gretal. Their abode was a pathetic, draughty little shack for they were desperately poor.
It all stemmed from a variety of economic factors. The Prince Regent had taxed his subjects to the hilt so that the father had been reduced to trading without paying tax. Unfortunately, after he failed to submit his tax return, the Royal Inland Revenue came round to the family hut and seized their furniture and bed linen. The father was blacklisted as a trader and so the family survived on whatever he could find in the forest. He spent his days hunting but was a lousy shot because of his pine allergy which made him sneeze rather a lot. All the game was either warned in advance of his presence on account of his sneezing or he would sneeze while trying to take a shot and, as a result, completely miss.
His wife was an evil miserable bitch as the reader will soon discover. She lazed about the hut all day and did absolutely nothing to help the cause. Meanwhile their adorable children worked their fingers to the bone, scrubbing the floors and the stove and fetching wood for the fire.
One night, after a particularly aggressive spot of love making, the wife unstrapped the dildo from her pelvis and rolled onto her back.
“Oh dear husband,” she groaned. “We have so little food to survive on! There’s simply not enough for all four of us.”
“I know, I know,” he grimaced.
“We simply must do something!”
“What ideas do you have my love?” he wondered, hoping she might suggest she would leave them thus meaning he’d only have three mouths to feed.
“Let’s get shot of the kids,” this wasn’t the answer he’d expected to hear.
“We can’t do that!” he exclaimed. “That’s a terrible thing to suggest!”
“Oh there you go again!” she complained bitterly. “You’re so negative about everything! You can’t fiddle tax properly, you can’t hunt, you can’t have a dildo roughly inserted in you without crying like a baby….I don’t know why I married you, you snivelling little turd.”
And, after whispering these sweet nothings, the wife rolled over and broke wind.
Over the proceeding days the husband tried putting the conversation out of his mind, so abhorred was he by it.
However, his wife kept on reminding him with subtle allusions to the discussion such as when the children were near the fire she would look at him and gesture pushing them in. On another occasion she stood behind them at the kitchen table holding a carving knife in her hand, mimicking slitting their tender little throats.
Finally, after a week of nothing but nettle soup, she lay in bed one night and raised the subject of slaughtering her children once again.
“I only had one bowl of soup today,” she complained. “I could have had more if it wasn’t for those little bastards.”
“They have to eat!” protested the husband, uncomfortable about the direction in which this twilight chat was headed. “They’re growing!”
“They’re greedy little toe rags!”
“I wish you’d stop suggesting we desert them!”
“Desert them? Oh no, we can just cut their throats in their sleep and bury them in the morning.”
“No!” the responsible patriarch cried.
“Okay fine. Well how about we lead them out to the forest tomorrow and leave them there?”
“That’s an awful thing to suggest!”
“They’ll be safe! They can learn to hunt and gather by themselves rather than sponging off us! It was okay back in the good old days when the King ran the Child Benefit scheme. You simply used to blow most of the money on booze and use the remainder to feed them. But now they’re bringing in nothing!”
“They wouldn’t be able to fend for themselves!” he argued. “They’d be eaten by wolves or bears!”
“If there are so many wild animals out there, why haven’t you shot any of them?” she spat. “No, it’s decided. Tomorrow we will take them out into the forest and dump them.”
The kindly, conscientious father would have argued further but he was tired and sometimes you agree to anything just for a quiet life. So, as the old hag said, the next day they led the two poor defenceless urchins out into the forest under the pretext they would be collecting wood for the fire. After walking for several hours they reached a clearing and told Hansel and Gretal to remain there while they went
to fetch the wood.
“You stay here children,” their weak willed and cowardly father told them both as they sat down by a tree stump. “We’ll be back presently, we just need to get firewood.”
“Yeah, bye!” their mother blew them a kiss before dragging her husband off into the undergrowth.
Three hours later the mother filled her belly with three bowls of nettle soup in the shack and was most delighted. The husband was not so thrilled. Perhaps it was the prospect of his children being torn limb from limb by wolves or the sight of his wife parading around the shack with the strap on.
Shortly afterwards however there came a knock on the door of the shack. The father was a rather relieved by the distraction as he had just been summoned to the bedroom.
“If that’s those Jehovah’s witnesses again, tell them to get stuffed!” came a yell from the bedroom.
The father opened the door to see Hansel and Gretal standing outside, both shivering from their heads to their tiny toes.
“Children!” he exclaimed and pulled them both inside.
“Father,” began Hansel. “You never came back for us?”
“I’m sorry children,” blushed their father. “We were so busy and I really don’t know where the time got to…”
“It was very cold out there,” Gretal said between chattering teeth.
“Oh, they’re back!” remarked their mother as she stood in the doorway of the bedroom.
“Father?” Hansel frowned as he pointed at his mother. “What has Mummy got strapped around her waist?”
“Bedtime children!”
“That’s it then!” scowled the mother a little while later once the children were fast asleep. “We’ll have to take them out deeper into the forest!”
“Really?” sighed the father. “Can’t we just keep them? You’ve had a nice meal out of it…”
“No!” she bellowed. “Now bend over.”
The following morning Hansel and Gretal were led out even further into the forest under the exact same pretext as before.
“Bye my darlings, we’ll be back soon,” their father told them with a kiss on their cheeks.
He turned to await his wife’s farewell to the children but she was striding off back towards where they had just come from whistling the ‘Funeral March’.
That night the mother ate another three bowls of nettle soup and was most contented. The father was a little nervous, secretly hoping there would be a knock on the door.
Sure enough one came just before midnight.
“Hello kids!” cried the father as he pulled back the door to see Hansel and Gretal standing on the doormat and glaring at him.
“You forgot about us again!” Gretal stamped her feet.
“Oh did we? Oh my dears, I’m so sorry!”
They were ushered into the relative warmth of the shack and promptly sent to bed with empty bellies.
“So I gave birth to homing pigeons?” their mother complained in bed that night. “We obviously need to take them out even further…”
“Or not do it at all?”
“Or take them out to the river and drown them!”
And so the farce continued the next day. However, this time the mother was a little more attentive as she left them. Hugging the pair of them, she ensured they were shackled to a tree prior to merrily skipping away. Their father gave them a sad little wave as he followed his wife.
A little while later Hansel and Gretal heard voices in the forest. Shortly a band of people arrived in the clearing. If you’ve read the title, you might guess who they could be.
“Two children tied to a tree?” began Prince Charming as he rode Percy up to them brandishing his sword. “There is skullduggery here!”
“No,” replied Hansel. “Our parents left us here nice and secure while they get firewood.”
“They shackled you to a tree?”
Both children nodded in response.
“I’m not surprised sire,” began the Dwarf. “These forest dwellers have some strange attitudes about parenting.”
“And they’ve gone off to fetch firewood me hearties?” checked the Captain.
“Yes,” shivered Gretal.
“Okay fine,” the Prince led his merry band off into the forest thus leaving the
children secured to the tree as the cold set in.
“Very strange set of affairs,” remarked the Prince a few moments later.
“Yes, yes, very peculiar,” said Percy. “But when are we going to get out of this damn forest?”
“It’s unlike you to be so negative Percy,” his master patted him.
“We’ve been wandering around this place for a month,” he neighed. “I thought we were meant to be heading back to the Palace once the Zombies had been vanquished. We haven’t seen one for ages. Can’t we just get out of here?”
“Good point Percy old chap,” the Prince scratched his noble crown. “But we have no idea how to get out of this forest!”
“My synthesizer needs re-charging!” complained the Minstrel. “I’m nothing without my instrument!”
“If only you were!” the Captain scowled. “The lack of an instrument hasn’t prevented you from singing and humming along all the time!”
As you might have garnered from the above, everyone was becoming a little bit tetchy. The combination of sleep deprivation, lack of decent food and harsh weather had taken its toll.
Back in the clearing, Hansel and Gretal were really starting to feel the cold.
They heard another rustling in the bushes. Staring over into the undergrowth, they watched as an old woman in a shawl emerged.
“Hello my pretties,” the old crone greeted them. “Why are you tied to this tree?”
Hansel and Gretal explained matters so that the crone was extremely sympathetic prior to cutting them free and insisting they go to her cottage for food and warmth.
The kids, being famished, went along quite happily with her. They walked for about half an hour until they reached her palatial pad. What a cottage it was to behold! Constructed from candy, it sent Hansel and Gretal into raptures. The bricks were gingerbread, the slates on the roof were made of toffee, the door of brandy snap clustered with lemon sherbets and the door handle of strawberry licorice.
Understandably, Hansel and Gretal were very impressed. Their little mouths watered as they entered the cottage.
“Eat my dears!” the crone told them as they entered the front room which was jam packed with e-numbers. “You must eat all you can!”
Hansel and Gretal dug into the huge bowls of candy littered about the place whilst the old crone smiled craftily.
Meanwhile their parents were heading through the forest only to bump into Prince Charming and his crew.
“Aha!” began the Prince. “I think we saw your dear children a few miles back!”
“Yes,” gulped the mother. “They are waiting while we go about our errands.”
“Well they’re getting rather cold,” replied the Prince. “And they seem rather gaunt as well. The sooner you go back for them and take them home for some shelter and dinner the better.”
“Oh well, we’ll be going back very soon,” the mother assured them.
“Sire,” Percy whispered to the Prince. “Have you noticed that they don’t have any firewood on them? That’s a bit suspicious isn’t it?”
“Now you come to mention it Percy, yes,” agreed the Prince. “They do seem rather light of luggage.”
“Well we’d better go!” the mother tugged her husband away into the undergrowth leaving them behind.
“I don’t like the looks of this,” stated the Captain, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Those two are very shifty.”
“I need to recharge my synthesizer!” the Minstrel crossed his arms.
“I think we should go back to check on those children,” the Prince kicked on Percy so that they shot off back towards where they had encountered Hansel and Gretal.
“Just keep eating!” the old crone cheerfully encouraged Hansel and Gretal as they chomped on the candy. “Children should eat plenty of sweets! It’ll fatten you up!”
Hansel and Gretal finished the bowl of jelly beans and went on to begin eating their way through another that was crammed full of chocolates.
“Just keep gorging,” she beamed before going out into her kitchen to light the stove.
The Prince, Percy, the Dwarf, the Captain and the Minstrel reached the clearing where Hansel and Gretal had been previously. On spotting the broken shackles around the tree, they became even more worried.
“Call me a cynic sire,” Percy looked at the tree. “But I reckon they’ve been abducted.”
“You might have a point there Percy,” agreed the Prince.
“Don’t worry me hearties,” the Captain declared. “I can track anything across land or water.”
“That’s great,” said Percy. “But if that’s true, why have we been wandering aimlessly around this forest for a whole bloody month?”
“Nobody ever asked me!” the Captain raised his head in the air to sniff long and hard. “I can smell a fire burning!”
Our courageous heroes headed off in the direction recommended by the Captain.
“I cannot believe that we’ve been horribly lost all this time and now you suddenly choose to become as handy as a Sat Nav,” Percy grumbled to the Captain once again.
“As what?” the Captain was puzzled.
“Never mind,” Percy sighed.
“I expect it’s one of those things they have in the land of the Elves,” began the Dwarf. “Anyway, how long will it take to track these kids down?”
“Be patient,” the Captain told him as he hobbled along at the front of the party, examining the forest floor for prints.
“Well sorry,” replied the Dwarf. “But we need to get a move on. If the Zombies have all been killed then Archie will be busy cementing his control over the realm. You can bet he has probably imprisoned the Babes and begun torturing them.”
“Let’s just hope, for their sake, that it isn’t Vasterbalk who interrogates them!” the Captain grimaced.
Across the Kingdom in the Palace the Prince Regent was reposing on his throne as the Sorcerer entered the court in a state of great excitement.
“Sire!” he bowed. “I have finally created a state of the art magical device!”
“At bleeding last,” Archie encouraged him. “I’ve seen very little evidence of your so-called magic!”
“Well sire this is quite amazing!” enthused the Sorcerer as two servants entered the court holding a long, narrow box shaped object which was covered with a purple silk sheet. “You won’t doubt me now you know!”
“It had better help me defeat the Prince and all those last remaining Zombies running amok in my Kingdom!”
The servants stood the object up in front of the Sorcerer and Archie before removing the silk cover to reveal a large, sparkling crystal ball embedded in a silver encrusted stand.
“What the Hell is this?” began Archie. “I hope you’ve paid the tax on it!”
“It’s a crystal ball!” smiled the Sorcerer. “I can see anything and anyone in the realm using it! We’ll be able to see what your enemies are up to sire!”
“Really?” Archie arose from his throne to stand by the Sorcerer who was waving his hands over the ball.
“Look sire! I can see elsewhere in the Palace!”
“But that’s only the Dungeon!” Archie pointed at the shimmering image in the ball. “I can go downstairs to see that anytime!”
“Look sire! Vasterbalk is torturing one of the Zombies!”
“Yes, I can see…hang on a minute! What is he doing? Why is he removing the creature’s trousers?”
“Standard interrogation technique,” nodded the Sorcerer. “Textbook.”
“Textbook? Removing the clothes from a Zombie?” cried Archie as he peered closer into the crystal ball. “Why’s Vasterbalk stripping himself? What’s he doing now? Is he lying beneath the Zombie?”
The pair of them went quiet for a second as they watched in shock.
“That’s disgusting,” Archie turned away. “So let me get this straight. This crystal ball allows us to see anything in the realm?”
“Yes sire!” the Sorcerer replied proudly.
“If that’s the case, why are we watching Vasterbalk enjoying a golden shower in the dungeon?”
“Sorry sire,” the Sorcerer quickly waved his hands over the crystal ball so that a different image appeared. “Look, the Prince and his band!”
“In a forest!” remarked Archie as he went back to looking into the ball. “It looks like the one by the great Western road.”
“Yes sire.”
“We must stop them!” declared Archie. “If they reach the West of the Kingdom they could meet with the rebels and that will mean my enemies will unite and the prophecy will come true. Tell Vasterbalk to put his clothes on and get down there immediately!”
“I am sure we are heading in the right direction!” it was late afternoon and the Captain had taken them six yards in an hour.
He was currently sniffing a broken twig as the others all rested behind him in a clearing in the forest. The Minstrel was sobbing a little as his synthesizer lay on the floor in broken pieces.
“Why did you have to do that?” he cried to them all.
It had been a group effort. As they had found the sound of the instrument less than endearing, the Prince had slashed his sword through it thus cutting it in half. It still demonstrated some signs of life so that the Dwarf had smashed it up further with his axe. The Minstrel had remained confident that, despite such vandalism, he could knock out a tune on it. That was until Percy had trampled over it just to make sure.
Finally confident that they were still on the right path, the Captain went forwards so that the others stood up and followed. The Minstrel regarded his broken instrument sadly before joining them. They had walked for perhaps only a minute when they reached another clearing. The Captain stopped, once again running his eyes over the mossy floor.
“I think somebody lives near here!” the Captain nodded at the others.
“I think you’re right!” agreed Percy.
“Really?” the Captain asked. “What makes you think that? Is it the foot print in the moss over there? Or the leaves that have recently fallen from that bush on the right?”
“No,” Percy swished his tail. “It’s the plume of chimney smoke I can see in the distance.”
They all stared up at the sky and, just beyond the tree tops, thick black smoke was pouring upwards. On seeing this they all hurried forwards. Within minutes they were outside a house which made them stop in wonderment.
“What the heck is this?” asked the Dwarf. “Are those bricks made of gingerbread?”
“Looks like it,” nodded the Prince before wincing. “But I really don’t like the Blackpool rock stone cladding. It’s so last century!”
“Shall we knock on the door?” suggested the Dwarf. “Perhaps those kids are in there?”
The Prince rapped his knuckles against the brandy snap door encrusted with lemon sherbets before rubbing them against his garments for they had become rather sticky. Footsteps could be heard within before the strawberry licorice door handle turned and the old crone stood on the threshold.
“Good afternoon my good woman,” began the Prince. “I am Prince Charming. Myself and my band of plucky followers were travelling through the forest when we happened upon two infants. It would seem that they have subsequently gone missing…”
“Gone missing?” she shrugged.
“Yes madam.”
“Well I haven’t seen them I am afraid.”
“Oh right…” the Prince was about to step away before he spotted Hansel leaping up and down in the front room. “So who is that then?”
“Oh,” the crone moved back to point at Hansel and Gretal who were bouncing around the room whilst munching on candy. “These are my children.”
“Your children?” the Prince was surprised.
“Yes? What of it?” she suddenly gave him a little glare which the others didn’t spot.
“Well you look too…wise…to have conceived children of such a tender age.”
“Is she any relation of yours?” Percy murmured to the Dwarf.
“Why is the boy foaming at the mouth?” asked the Prince.
“They’ve had rather too many sweeties,” explained the crone. “But once they calm themselves a little I’ll be putting them down for the night.”
“Excellent!” the Prince had heard enough. “Well, in that case, I will trouble you no further! We will go on our way!”
“Jolly good!” the crone slammed the door in his face.
“Well come on fellas!” the Prince joined the others. “Let’s be on our merry way! We have more Zombies to slaughter!”
“Hold your horses sire,” piped up Percy. “There’s something wrong here.”
“Now come on Percy you old nag,” the Prince mounted him. “What could possibly be wrong?”
“Well, apart from the fact that she clearly shouldn’t be pumping them with so many ‘E’ numbers before bedtime, there is no way that old crone could have given birth to them!”
“It’s nothing to do with her looks!” Percy stamped “Because she’s so ugly?” the Prince asked. “Now come on, I’m sure someone must have found her attractive…once.”
“Yeah me old sea dogs,” nodded the Captain. “She didn’t look that bad. But being away at sea such a long time can do funny things to a man.”
“I dunno!” chimed in the Dwarf. “I wouldn’t go near her with a barge pole.”
They all turned and looked at him incredulously.
“You’re a fine one to talk!” the Minstrel cried.
his front hooves. “She must be about seventy! She’s far too old! She’s lying!”
“We have Zombies and Prince Regents to sort out!” pointed out the Dwarf. “Let’s get out of here!”
“Fine!” Percy remained rooted to the spot. “A fine bunch of heroes we are! We are willing to ignore a child snatcher!”
“You can be sooo theatrical Percy!” the Prince rolled his eyes.
“Come on my dears!” came a shout from within the poorly insulated candy house. “Come and see my lovely stove!”
As the old crone was opening the front of the stove and encouraging Gretal to look inside, there came an almighty crash.
The Prince had rode Percy straight through the brandy snap door so that it lay in pieces on the floor as he dismounted.
The crone was aghast but this didn’t prevent her from trying to shove little Gretal in the stove. The Prince raced over to haul her back and free Gretal from her grasp.
Hansel was rolling about on the kitchen floor, still foaming at the at the mouth. There was a high pitched scream as Percy kicked the crone into the stove prior to closing the door behind her. The smoke from the chimney became thicker with orange sparks pouring down onto the toffee roof tiles.
“That was excellent timing!” remarked the Dwarf as he nibbled on a brandy snap. “I’m so glad we came to their rescue!”
The Prince pulled Hansel and Gretal from the house followed by Percy.
“We need to find your parents!” the Prince told them. “I wonder where they are? They must be frantic with worry.”
Neither child said anything but they regarded each other with a roll of the eyes and a long sigh.
A loud burp echoed about the house of Hansel and Gretal’s parents as their mother finished her final bowl of nettle soup. Her husband looked on a little nervously
as she began winking at him from across the kitchen table.
“That was very filling!” she declared. “Do you know what I could really do with now?”
“A smoke? I’ll go get my pipe!” he hurriedly arose from the table.
“No!” she barked. “You know what I want! Now those little brats are gone we won’t be interrupted anymore. We can make all the noise we want.”
“Oh…yes…that’s excellent,” he gulped.
The Prince and his followers had departed the house of confectionery to head North in the hope they might find Hansel and Gretal’s parents. To the relief of all, Hansel had finally calmed down so that he was able to explain what had happened.
“What an awful woman that crone was!” the Prince cried. “Fattening these blessed little children for the kill? Some people! This Kingdom has really lost its moral compass under Archie!”
“Don’t worry sire,” began the Dwarf. “The little blighters will be safe once we drop them off with their parents.”
“These being the same parents that left them tied to a tree?” Percy pointed out. “Call me suspicious, but I’m not exactly brimming over with confidence about their parental aptitude.”
Soon enough the children became tired so that they were scooped up and placed in front of the Prince on Percy. As night drew in, they could hear blood curdling screams away in the distance. The Dwarf lit a torch whilst the Prince removed his sword from its sheath as the screams became louder the closer they got.
“Sounds like a man sire,” the Captain told the Prince. “I heard screams like that many a time at sea.”
“Screams?”
“Yes, usually below deck.”
“Below deck?” Percy raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” he nodded. “Not of fear but more like ecstasy.”
“I can see a shack in the clearing,” the Prince peered ahead in the orange torchlight. “The sound must be coming from there.”
Hansel and Gretal became rather excited on realising that the shack was their home before the Prince knocked on the front door. The screams died down and there was some shuffling within.
“Hello?” their mother came to the door in her dressing gown, staring
aggressively at the Prince. “What do you want?”
“Good evening,” the Prince smiled and indicated the children standing on the step behind him. “I have a surprise for you!”
“I’m busy! Can’t you come back later?” she began closing the door until the Prince blocked her.
“But we have found your children!”
“What? We don’t have any children!”
Both Hansel and Gretal were aghast at her response as she kicked the Prince in the shins and slammed the door shut.
“There seems to have been some massive misunderstanding here,” the Prince remarked as he turned to the others and the screaming continued.
“She is our mother,” insisted Hansel. “I always knew she didn’t care about us.”
“I think she abandoned them sire,” Percy neighed.
“Oh my word!” the Prince was beside himself. “What an awful place this forest is!”
As the others prepared to leave, the Prince banged his fist on the front door of the shack once again. The woman came to the door and frowned at him.
“Now what?”
“Don’t be so impertinent my good woman!” the Prince chided her. “We have rescued your dear little children that you so cruelly left to the elements in the forest. I should have you imprisoned for such behavior!”
“Who are you to come round here making up these fairy stories!” she shouted, pointing her finger at him so that her dressing down loosened a little and fell open.
There was a shriek as the Prince charged forwards and drove his sword straight through her chest so that she collapsed on the floor.
“Your Majesty! What happened?” gasped the Dwarf as he joined the Prince in the shack as he stood over the lifeless body of the woman.
“What’s she got wrapped around her waist?”
“I thought she was armed,” the Prince paled as he began wiping off the blood from the tip of his sword. “It was instantaneous. I just saw it coming at me and reacted.”
The Dwarf saw the long hefty metal object strapped to the woman’s mid riff and sympathised with the Prince.
They entered the shack to go to one of the bedrooms at the back where they were amazed to discover two naked men tied to the bed. One being the long suffering husband of the woman and the other was Vasterbalk.
“Well, well, well,” the Prince grinned at the Dwarf and the others who had followed them in. “If it isn’t old Mr Golden Shower himself!”
“Thank heavens you came!” Vasterbalk cried in relief to the agreement of the husband.
“Thank heavens you haven’t,” remarked the Dwarf with a grimace. “Reminds me of the wife.”
“I was wandering through the forest, minding my own business, when I chanced upon this shack. That woman dragged me in here and tied me to this bed!”
“You offered to tie yourself to the bed!” the husband corrected him. “Because you wanted her to squat over you and…”
“Set me free!” Vasterbalk begged them.
The Dwarf cut the rope binding the pair of them to the bed posts so that the father immediately put his clothes on and went to hug the children. A few minutes later they departed the shack, keen to get out of the forest and back to civilization.
The Captain gave the father directions to reach the house of candy so that they might never go hungry ever again. Hansel and Gretal waved them off as they headed into the cold, dark night.
“There will be more trouble,” observed Percy. “And they’ll go hungry once again.”
“Don’t be silly Percy,” replied the Prince. “They can eat the contents of that
house!”
“Exactly! The Captain gave them directions to it. They’ll starve before they ever find it again!”
“So then Vasterbalk!” began the Prince as their prisoner gloomily walked alongside them. “I wonder what the Prince Regent will make of us taking you prisoner!”
“I’m not intimidated by you lot!” snarled Vasterbalk. “I have my rights.”
“You have your rights,” nodded the Prince. “But they don’t extend to any of your strange little perversions. We certainly won’t be torturing you.”
“Oh shame.”
The Prince Regent and the Sorcerer stood peering into the crystal ball as they surveyed what was going on in the forest.
“Ha ha sire!” the Sorcerer chuckled. “If only they knew! What do you think anyway?”
“I wish bloody Vasterbalk would put some bleeding clothes on!” snapped Archie. “Nobody wants to see that. Not even in a crystal ball!”
To be continued…
Athon 