Little Red Riding Hood: Cries of The Wolf




Suggested Audio Apples:

[1] Bill Withers “Grandma’s Hands”

[2] Pulp “Help The Aged”

[3] Florence & The Machine “Howl”

[4] Henry Hall “Who’s Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?”

[5] Duran Duran “Hungry Like The Wolf”

[6] Chris de Burgh “Lady In Red”



Old people are a real pain in the tits. Take my grandmother for example, she’ll be eighty-seven on her next birthday and appears to be reverting back to infancy. My first clue was the smell and this has got gradually worse since she prolapsed. I read in a book that 53 percent of elderly people suffer from incontinence and she certainly lost that particular coin toss as I can barely be in the same room as her any more without my gag reflex being tested. This is bad enough in the winter months but practically unbearable once summer comes rolling in. This afternoon we reached highs of around 30°C and granny was kicking up one helluva stink. The urine is one thing but there are other reasons why her aroma is so pungent.


Why is it that old people never want to throw shit out? Most of her possessions have been with her since the Great Depression and she flat refuses to let me get rid of any of it. Stacks of newspapers that went out of print before I was even conceived literally shore up her bed and lend themselves to her less than exotic bouquet. Mothballs are a mainstay in our house and, no matter how wide I open the windows to air the place, it still smells like the inside of a badger’s asshole. It’s gotten to be so bad that none of my friends will even visit any longer and, needless to say, this suits her down to the ground. You see, senior citizens just so happen to be incredibly self-centered.


If she’s pissed off (which is her primary emotion nowadays), then she damn well wants me to know it. Last week she took great exception to a squirrel that took up temporary residency on our front lawn and didn’t let me hear the end of it all day. It’s like she’s got decades of pent-up, decrepit rage inside her and I blame it on her “fight or flight” mentality. I get that she’s cranky because she’s fed up of her bodily functions slowly shutting down before her eyes, but that is just life I’m afraid. Back when she was a girl, it wasn’t considered the done thing to bitch about your problems and this led to eighty years of simply sucking it up. Well sooner or later it is inevitable that all this ill feeling will overflow and that is precisely what is happening now. Her arthritis is getting steadily worse, waking up seven times a night for toilet breaks gets her down, and she spends over half of her social security on her cat. Don’t even get me started on Alan.


That’s right she named him Alan and, the worst things is, he actually looks like an Alan. I’m not entirely sure of his actual age but I’m sixteen and he was around before I was. Granny says that Alan is a long-haired cat and, perhaps this was true once, but there isn’t a patch of fur anywhere on his rancid body and he resembles a rodent more than a feline. Moreover, he has a tendency to spray on her belongings on command and I’m fairly convinced that she facilitates this freely. Of course, Alan sees me as a threat and, while nothing that my grandmother can do is wrong in his dead black eyes, I’m considered the enemy and rasped at accordingly. It’s a good job I got my tetanus jabs as this crusty critter is positively teeming with bacteria and may well outlive its owner at this rate. Needless to say, while granny is susceptible to pretty much every sickness going, she’s curiously immune to Alan. As for me, well I can feel his fleas burrowing as we speak.


Actually she is sick right now. That is kind of why I’m out here in the woods at sundown on a mercy mission when I should be on MSN catching up with my only friends, Hansel & Gretal. According to her she is suffering from an almighty migraine although her condition only appears to worsen when I’m in earshot. I’ve been watching her all day and, the very moment my back is turned for a second, she seems to make a miraculous recovery. I offered to call the doctor out but she refused point-blank as she swears blind that he secretly wants her dead. To be honest, I’m glad of the respite. At least here I can grab a few precious minutes out in the elements and escape her daily 9 pm bunion soak. That said, I’ve heard some pretty disparaging tales of the dangers of these particular woods. For as much as placing myself in peril isn’t high on my list of priorities, it still ranks above rinsing out her bed pan. I’ll take my chances.


My mother gave strict instructions never to veer from the well trodden path. I wish she was here now as things were better then. Ten years ago she upped and left without any kind of heads-up and it was left to granny to pick up the reins and raise me like her own. Word to the wise mom, that didn’t work out well. Indeed, I could have great bitterness for the fact that I grew up way too fast for a girl my age. While others were engaging in conker brawls and climbing the tallest oak tree in the forest, I was stuck at home flannel washing a human armadillo. I’ve got half a mind to thrown a few poisonous berries into my basket and speed up the process some but can’t bring myself to act so inhumanely. She may be a mutt from the lower reaches of hell but, like it or not, she’s still my cross to bear.


It is starting to get dark now and I’d better get a move on as I hear that the freaks come out at night. Granny told me that and, while convinced it was only to keep me grounded, there have seem some rather unsettling reports around these parts of late. Remember I mentioned Hansel & Gretal? Well the siblings haven’t been seen hide nor hair of since last Tuesday. It has also been suggested that these woods are riddled with wolves and teenage girls have been said to form a large part of their staple diet. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that the old wench is setting me up for a fall here. I was all set to head off in my most inconspicuous clothing but she insisted I wear my scarlet cape as I’ll catch the death of cold. It’s ludicrous if you ask me, the common cold is hardly the world’s greatest killer. An alpha wolf, on the other hand, makes for one formidable hunter. Should I unwittingly wander into his den, then I’m practically a matador. Maybe being torn apart isn’t so bad. If nothing else, it would provide me closure.


No. Fuck that. I can think of far better closure than dying before I can celebrate my eighteenth birthday. For starters, I’m still a virgin. I know right? You’d think with these ripened chest berries, I’d be fighting off the purple horde but I would urge you take a look around our coordinates. It’s hardly suburbia. I haven’t so much as laid eyes on a boy for months now, since little Johnny Walker stopped delivering our weekly firewood. Rumor has it on Facebook that Johnny had something of a sweet spot for me and admittedly there was some chemistry there. However, once granny got a sniff of what was going on, she promptly called time on his services. According to her, times have been hard since the holocaust, and she reminds me of such every day like clockwork. However, I’ve got her number. She’s just scared that I’ll fly the nest and wants to keep my wings clipped for as long as is humanly possible.


The thing that really distresses me is our average family lifespan. Her mother lived to the ripe old age of one hundred and four and that would mean I’ll be in my mid-thirties before this wretched curse is lifted. Even then, she’ll likely haunt me from the other side. I don’t feel that I’m being ungrateful by wishing for a little happiness. Just a dash, something to sidetrack me from the thought of hand washing her laundry. I shit you not, some of her bloomers were considered old hat at the turn of the last century and she appears to soil them habitually just to provide me a stern challenge. Please don’t think me ruthless when I say that I hope our house is ransacked by opportunists while I’m out and the old girl’s ticker finally packs up. Am I a rotten person? If I am, then bite me. I’m past being little miss goody two shoes.


“Why hello there young lady”

“Who said that?”

“I’m over here in the dense foliage. Come a little closer and you’ll see”

“I’ll do no such thing. Do you think I was born yesterday?”

“But I’m frightfully shy”

“Well I’m frightfully in possession of a rape whistle and not afraid to use it”

“Come now young lady. Does this sound like the voice of an undesirable?”

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“Yes actually that’s precisely what it sounds like”

“Well I can assure you that I’m an upstanding fellow and have no intention of harming you”

I’ve got this heathen’s number. He may be largely concealed, but those aren’t the feet of a Samaritan.

“Then why are your paws crossed?”

“I suffer from a rare ailment that causes them to curl over each other”

“Well I guess that’s feasible. But I still don’t trust you”

“How about we just talk for a bit? No pressure, just a light conversation about whichever topic your tasty smelling heart desires”

“Really? You’re prepared to listen while I reel off my grievances?”

“Think of me as an agony aunt. A really hairy agony aunt”

“And you won’t try anything funny?”

“Scouts honor. I’m a man of my word”

“I’m not convinced you’re a man at all”

“What makes you say that?”


“Something about the smell of fresh lamb chops I guess. Well that and the snout”

He must think I just came off the last cruise liner. I would have to consult my predator almanac, but it doesn’t take a genius to work out that this one’s wearing sheep’s clothing. And I don’t mean that figuratively.

“Okay you got me. I know what I am, you know what I am, can we just get past that and move on?”

“I’ve heard about your type”

“My type? You’re mightily close to sounding prejudiced right now”

“And don’t play that card either. Listen, if we’re going to get along, I need you to be straight with me”

“But of course”

“Enough with the charming act too. I’m not sleeping with you. Just want that clear from the offset”


“Don’t flatter yourself love”

“That’s more like it. Just keep it real and we’ll get on just fine”

“Real you say?”

“Yes. Should I confide in you, then this little rendezvous could benefit us both”

“I’m all ears. You had me at benefit us both”

“You’re hungry right?”


“Not particularly. Just had a bowl of curds and whey I found discarded by a tuffet”

“Don’t lie to me. You’re ravenous. The tummy is giving you away”

“Okay it may be growling a little. So what if I’m famished?”

“Well what if I could point you in the direction of your next meal ticket?”

“Go on”

“Right I’m just going to lay this out there. My grandmother is a cunt”

“You’ll have to excuse me dear. I’m not familiar with all this new-fangled urban slang”

“She is a pain in my buttocks”

“That’s dreadful. I could always massage them for you, if you wish?”

“Mind out the gutter wolf. You’re perilously close to talking to the hand”

“So where do I come in?”

“She’s alone right now. What’s more, she’s frail and defenceless”


“An easy lay?”

“If that’s your bag. Do what you wish to her but make her dead!”

“You want me to kill her?”

“Am I speaking double Dutch? Yes I want you to kill her. You’re a wolf, that’s what you do”

“Again with the presumption”

“So what else do you do then?”

“Erm…well…last week I ran up a hill”

“Just spit it out will you. I’m two seconds away from blowing the whistle”

“Yeah I guess”

“You guess?”


“I’m a cold callous killer. There, are you satisfied now?”

“Feels good doesn’t it?”

“What, being given the Spanish Inquisition?”

“Telling the truth. It will set you free you know”

“Do you have any idea how condescending you’re sounding?”

“Suck my titty twizzlers wolf. Are you going to help me or what?”

“Leading towards what at the moment”


“Then how about I sweeten the deal? I live at the rose cottage three miles from here. Follow this track back to the crossroads, then swing a left and keep heading straight until you see a mulberry bush. It’s pretty much directly behind that, a couple of hundred yards”


“Is this a dinner invite?”

“Of sorts yes. There will be some light snacking involved”

“I think I know where this is heading. You want me to eat her don’t you?”

“In a nutshell”

“How old is she?”

“Early sixties and still in fine shape. You could even consider her a M.I.L.F.”



“Mother I’d like to feast”

“I’m not really into the elderly”

“She’s a cougar. Dynamite in the sack too I hear. Those double joints can have their advantages”

“You’re not selling this”

“Jesus you’re stubborn. So tell me then. What can I do that will make this a more attractive proposition?”

“Have you ever heard the term you scratch my back and I’ll return the favor?”

“Name your condition, within reason”

“You’re a virgin”

“Now who is being presumptuous?”


“I’m a wolf. I could smell the menstruation trail before the bright red cape gave you away”

“Okay if we’re being honest. Maybe I am”

“Not maybe. You’re a virgin. Never been kissed”

“What’s your point?”

“In exchange for my assistance in this matter of apparent urgency, I wish to be the one that pops that cherry”

“Uh-uh. That’s not happening”

“Have a good day”


“I have three lamb carcasses to slather”

“You want to make love to me. I get it and I’m flattered”

“Then you’ll do it?”

“Okay I’ll do it. But I want to lay some ground rules first”

“I despise rules”

“Well I hate the idea of giving up my chastity to a randy dingo but it doesn’t seem like I have a choice in that one”

“How many rules are you suggesting?”

“Just three and, if you don’t like them, then we agree to go our separate ways”

“I’ll humor you”

“Good. Rule one – No anal”

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“I mean it. My asshole is a one-way kind of trash compactor. By no means whatsoever will I facilitate any rectal pillaging. Is that clear?”


“You see, this isn’t so hard. Rule two – I’m not calling you daddy”


“Don’t knock it ’til you try it”

“My father was a swine and locked me in the pantry with no milk or cookies when I was considered naughty”


“Not yet it isn’t. You haven’t heard my third and final rule. This one is imperative”

“Go on”

“My grandmother must die horribly. This is non-debatable. Moreover, I want you to tell her I planned this shit to the letter just before you rip her throat out. Don’t leave anything to chance and watch out for her entourage Alan as that cat will have you scratching for weeks. It may have no fur but not all fleas like trees you know”

“Shouldn’t pose a problem”

“Not good enough libertine. I want proof that you’ve done the act”

“Fine, I’ll post a video to YouTube”

“You will do no such thing. I want hard evidence that the old hag is in your stomach acids”

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“Well I don’t own an X-ray machine if that’s what you’re driving at”

“No need for one. I’ll just check your stool”

“Well maybe I don’t want some bossy madam poking around my bottom either. Had you considered that? Wolves have standards too you know”

“Listen, you want to fuck me don’t you?”

“I prefer the term making love”

“Bullshit. You have no intention of being a gentle, thoughtful lover. A gentle, thoughtful lover doesn’t salivate each time I give even the vaguest come on”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Really? I want that huge furry pugil between my legs right now”


“You see. Bang to rights!”

“Okay already. You’ve got a deal”

“Delightful. I suppose we should get this over with then”

“May I make a single request now?”

“I suppose that cannot harm. Just one then”

“Stop talking”

“Well I can’t promise anything but…”

“No really. Stop talking!”


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I have to admit, that actually wasn’t so bad. Granted, it was a touch uncomfortable and he couldn’t resist slipping off round the back to test the boundaries but I soon showed him who was boss and, the funny thing is, I reckon he liked it. Who would have thought a big bad wolf like he would have turned out to be a secret submissive? Of course, I now have to make an unplanned trip into town to pick up a morning after pill but it’s hard to hide the rosy glow in my cheeks right now. We even shared a cigarette together afterwards and discussed our treacherous plan further. Turns out we have rather a lot in common. He remains persistent that he isn’t looking for a long-term relationship but can see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind. I’d never really considered that you know. My own personal fuck buddy. With grandmother gone, we could get up to all manner of debauchery, after skinning Alan alive and grinding his putrid bones into dust with a pestle and mortar.


So here’s the plan. I gave the wolf a one hour deadline to get this done and it is now just over that since he departed. If all has gone according to plan, then he should be in the midst of digestion as we speak and my ordeal will finally be over. Do I feel bad? For him perhaps as I may need to pick up some Alka Seltzer from the chemist on my travels. But certainly not for that mangy old fleabag. As far as I’m concerned, she got what has been coming to her for years. They say you can’t choose your family and I make them right. But you can choose whether or not to point a skirt-chasing lady-killer in their direction. I simply exercised that right. If that makes me a bad person then I guess red really is my color.


Anyway, time is a wasting, and I have a date with destiny to attend that’s more pressing than chewing the fat with you lot. All being well, that’s exactly what is going down right now behind this front door. In just a few moments we shall find out if this supposed big bad wolf had the minerals to come good on his oath. Beforehand I would have been trepedatitious but, now that he has tasted from my freshly flourishing font, I just know he won’t let the side down. Well I suppose we have arrived at crunch time. Wish me luck as I may just be about to walk into a shit storm. Guess I owe him the courtesy of a knock prior to entry. Give him a chance to clean up the crime scene. I say just leave that shit messy.


“Who is it?”

“It’s me. Little Red Riding Hood. Just as discussed”

“One moment dear. Now where did I leave those glasses? Oh silly me. They’re on the end of my nose”


That certainly isn’t grandma. She may call Alan dear but, to me, ungrateful brat is far more commonplace. Of course, nobody acted brattish back in the 1940s. Back then, children knew their place. Nowadays, we don’t know how easy we get it. These are words I’m far more familiar with than dear. Nevertheless, that’s a fairly impressive imitation. Now please knock it off wolf as you’re growing less sexy by the second. I happen to possess rather a colorful imagination and it’s in overdrive right now. All I can see is her weathered face and that infernal cat. Had I mentioned, Alan is also rather partial to bouts of smugness? You heard me, that repulsive bag of bones is fully aware of any favoritism being dished out and takes great pleasure in rubbing it in my face at every available opportunity. I feel like a trespasser in my own family home sometimes. Thankfully, I can’t hear him purring. Fingers crossed.


“Are you ready yet grandma?”

May as well keep up the façade for now.

“Yes I think I am dear. Please, come on in and try not to let the warmth out”

Here goes. And the first sight to meet these weary eyes is more than encouraging.


It is Alan or, at least, it was Alan. Right now I’m reasonably assured of the last thing to enter his mind just before his bitter end and I’ll give you a clue – it resembles something you may sharpen your pencil with. There is no mistaking that asshole as it was pretty much all Alan ever revealed to me. The wolf came good on stage one of my cunning plan and I’ve already got my happy sticker on. Look!


“Do you like what I did to the place dear?”

“Very nice. I particularly like the way you used Alan’s femurs to puncture both his beady little eyes”

“That’s improv. I thought it may give you a smile”

“It has indeed. Pray tell, how did he take the news?”

“Not at all well. And he didn’t go down without a fight”

“I would expect no less from Alan. So about our other arrangement?”

“It’s done. Come a little closer and I’ll show you. Here, place those rosy red cheeks on the bed and let grandma tell you all about it”


I know you’ll think be barmy and suggest I have taken leave of my senses but I’m going to do as grandma says too. I’m fully aware of the dangers and know I could be heading towards my first taste of heartbreak but you have to give the wolf credit, he appears to have satisfied my demands.

“Where is she?”


“Right now she’s lodged in my esophagus”

“And you have some proof I take it?”

“I do indeed. Smell my breath”

“Jesus. There’s some mouthwash in the bathroom cabinet. You’d better floss before you think of putting that snout anywhere near me”

“Of course. At once. Would you be a dear and pass me my walking sticks?”

“I get it. You’re grandma. But I’m not your wet bitch BITCH! NOW GET!”


“I do love it when you talk dirty”

“Brush ’em well remember. I even set the two-minute timer. I want those headstones gleaming on your return”

“So are you going to ask me how she tasted then?”

“Like moths. I know already”


“Worse than moths. I do a lot of running and happen across many moths on my daily sprints. They taste lousy admittedly but right now I’d lick ’em off dog feces just to remove the tang”

“I told you she may cause acid reflux”

“No you didn’t. You called her a M.I.L.F. Your words, not mine”

“Well I guess that one’s subjective”

“Subjective my ass. If she was in her early sixties, then I’m Angela Lansbury”


“Okay so I stretched the truth a little”

“Yes you did. Little Miss High & Mighty is little more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing”

“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black a little?”

“Dear, right now I’m a wolf in damp musty bloomers. And I blame that directly on you”

“I didn’t say you had to put on her drab rags”

“Remember when you asked me what else I do other than kill?”

“You like to dress up in old women’s clothing don’t you? Come clean, I won’t judge you I promise”

“So what if I do? Bottom line is that I kept up my end of the bargain and I’m convinced this electric toothbrush is defective. Hasn’t it been two minutes yet?”

“That’ll do. Come and join me grandma”


“That’s more like it dear. You’ll have to bear with me, my gout has been playing up all week”

“Well if you play your cards right, I may just rub your ankle”

“Would you dear? That would be heavenly”

“I have one stipulation”


“No more voice simulation. It’s creeping my shit out”

[IN A FAR MORE MANLY VOICE] “How about now?”


You heard that right? Tell me that isn’t Omar Sharif. I guess I’d better compliment him as he has a tendency to get rather techy.

“What a deep voice you have!”

“The better to greet you with”

I know how this plays out as he pulled this stunt back at the clearing. I will play along as he does have some decidedly handsome peepers.

“Goodness, what big eyes you have!”


“The better to see you with”

Goody. The hands are next and this big bad wolf sure nows how to jump a flat battery if you know what I mean.

“And what big hands you have!”

“The better to hug you with”

“It’s okay. You can use grab if you wish”

“The better to grab you with”

Time to get that long tongue waggling wolfy. We’re both consenting adults, there ain’t no grandma around to call us out either. Just two sexual beings in their prime, a four-poster bed, and a ton of groin sweat.


“What a big mouth you have”

“The better to eat you with!”

Never mind him, he means eat me out but is still coming to terms with urban slang. This is where we get to the real meat and potatoes. His woodcutter. Turns out there’s a reason why he’s called the big bad wolf. That burly warrior had to be seven thick inches and I’m only too happy to offer a second opinion.

“What a big…hold on. What’s this shit?”

“I can’t get your grandma out of my head. Give me a minute to refocus. This doesn’t ordinarily happen. God this is embarrassing”

“I haven’t got all day you know”

“Would you be a dear again?”

“What now?”

“I don’t suppose you’d slip a finger up my bottom would you?”


“Is it going to get you hard?”

“Stiff as a serviceman’s upper lip”

“Then here. Take two”

“What big thumbs you have”

“You like them? They’re opposing. came with the hands”

“Keep in character please”

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“I’m sorry. “The better to blast you open with!”

“There we go. We have lift off”

“About freaking time. Now fuck me grandma”



Click here to trace back the stains to Muffet’s tuffet





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