Monday 22 July 2013

Little Red Riding Hood & T’ Werewolf

Once upon a time, long ago in Topcliffe, theyer lived a pretty young lass by t’ name o’ Little Red Riding Hood. It weren’t ‘er real name o’ course – that wer’ Betty Goodbust! But she wer little, she ‘ad a red cloak wi a hood, an’ a reputation wi t’ stable lads daan at t’ Coach n’ Horses f’ enjoyin’ a good ride!

It wer’ a time wen wild animals still roamed t’ land, an’ babbies ooer little kiddies, often went missin’ fra pooar folks ‘omes! Particularly at Harvest Time wen both t’ corn an’ t’ moon wer high! Sum folks blamed t’ gypsies in t’ woods. Others said it wer wolves. Sum said it wer both at t’ same time!

In fact, theyer existed a local legend, passed daan thru t’ generations, that stressed parents an’ older siblings wud quote ter frighten theyer younger wards in ter behavin’ ther sens. Wot it said wer, “If tha ivver meets a person on t’ road, wi one eye brow wot grows right across theyer fissog - appen as not, that person wer a Werewolf.”

Sadly, t’ same legend nivver offered advice as t’ wot ter do if tha actually met a werewolf - coz it wer considered pointless. Ivverybody knew that n’body survived such an encounter!

But ah digress. Back ter Little Red Riding Hood...

One late summer evenin’, Little Red Riding Hood’s mam, asks Little Red Riding Hood, ter tek sum groceries ova ter her granny’s cottage sayin’, “ t’ pooar owd bugger dunt get aat much followin’ her double hip operation”.

Little Red Riding Hood knew this statement ter be a mini porky, coz she knew f’ a fact that ‘er sister took Granny aat ter bingo ivvery Tuesaday an’ Thursday neights, in t’ hand cart nicked fra t’ local bakery. (It wer not as roomy as t’ supermarket trolley previously purloined fra Morrisons - but it didn’t squeak or have a wobbly wheel.) Some neights t’ two o’ em cud be ‘eard giggling an’ carryin’ on like two hormonal prepubescent school girls as they med theyer way ‘ome thru Badgers Chuff Wood. (Especially, if Granny ‘ad purchased sum Dandelion Gin fra t’ Quivering Pig on route.)


But rather than be a tad narked abaat ‘er mam’s little white lie, Little Red Riding Hood wer delighted ter get aat fra under ‘er feet! An wer mooare than a gnats grateful f’ t’ opportunity f’ a crafty spliff in t’ woods, on t’ way.

So off she went like, wi a skip in ‘er step an’ a tune on her lips. Not that "T' Good Ship Venus" was an appropriate ditty f’ t’ little lass, but ‘avin’ seven older rugby-mad brothers meant such cultural learning cudn’t be avoided! She wer just abaat on t’ last chorus wen she realised she’d reached t’ deepest reaches o’ Badgers Chuff Woods – an’ half way ter Granny’s cottage. “Reight” she said ter her sen, “Time f’ mi weed!”

She wer just abaat ter light her beautifully crafted six skin spliff  - wen suddenly fra behind a tree, steps this weird lookin’ bloke she’d nivver seen afore.  “Ey up luv”, ‘e says. “Where’s tha headin’  on such a lovely Summer’s evenin’? A little lass like thee shud be careful aat tonight coz t’ moon will be full an’ high.”

“What ever!” replies Little Red Riding Hood holding up her hands ter form a ‘W’ whilst pushin’ past ‘im wi aat a second glance.

“That’s not reight polite o’ thee!” said t’ stranger, suddenly an’ magically standing right in front o’ her agayen, even tho she ‘adn’t seen ‘im move.

“Bite me!” says Little Red Riding Hood attempting to side step him an’ continue ‘er journey.

“By eckkerslike, tha’s a stroppy mare!” said t’ stranger, blocking her path agayen. “Ah wer only wonderin’ wayer tha’s goin’ wi yon basket o’ groceries, an’ thought ah’d lend thee a hand ooer at least see thee safely theyer!
A person on their tod can nivver be too careful on these barmy summer neights.”

“Ah’m off t’ see mi Gran” says
Little Red Riding Hood. “Not that it’s onny business o’ yorn!”

“Look ere, ah reckon we’ve got off to a bad start” says t’ stranger. “Let’s try agayen. My name is Wulluf” ‘e said, extending out a long wiry hand.

 As ‘e stepped forrud ter introduce issen,
Little Red Riding Hood looked at t’ bloke f’ t’ fust time like. ‘e wer a tall wiry man wi a slightly bent back an’ disproportionately long thin arms an’ powerful legs; ‘is clothes wer once o’ high quality but nah appeared owd an’ lived in; ther wer a peculiar yet not un-nice smell abaat ‘im that reminded ‘er o’ t’ earth, tho she cudn’t say why; ‘is teeth wer as bright as pearls an’ ‘is eyes shone golden in t’ dimming light; ‘is hair wer long an’ full, flowing freely daan his back; an’ despite aal o’ this, or perhaps because o’ aal o’ this, she thowatt ‘im ter be devilishly handsome!

In fact, Little Red Riding Hood suddenly felt inexplicably drawn ter ‘im fer reasons she jus’ cudn’t fathom. Yet despite this, summat in t’ farthest corner o’ ‘er mind nagged at ‘er. But again, she cudn’t say wot. Afore she’d even realised it, ‘e’d tekken ‘er ‘and in ‘is, an’ kissed it. It tingled like rain on a summers day! As ‘e let it go, she noticed ‘is long beautifully manicured nails an’ fleetingly wondered ‘ow ‘e managed ter keep ‘em so chuffin nice?

“So wayer’s tha Granny live?” ‘e says aal casual like.

“Does tha know t’ chippy on t’ edge o’ taan on t’ other side o’ t’ wood?” she faand ‘ersen answering – even though her inner self screamed at her ter say nowt.

“Aye, appen ah do lass.” Says Wulluf gettin’ interested.


“Well, she lives in a cottage raand t’ back. Tha can’t miss it, it has ‘Granny’ in big letters on t’ gate aatside!”

“Does she taste nice – ah mean is she nice your Gran?” asks Wulluf.

“Oh aye!” says
Little Red Riding Hood in a bit o' a trance. “She’s t’ best Granny in t’ whole chuffin world she is. She’s a reight foody, gets pissed as a vicar on Dandelion Gin an’ grows t’ best weed this side o’ Badgers Chuff Woods. Tis just a shame she’s gotten a tad deaf an’ blind lately.”

As if in agreement, in t’ distance a solitary bell tolled aat the hour at St Crotchet’s Church  - an’ suddenly
Little Red Riding Hood snapped aat o’ ‘er euphoric reverie, like she’d jus’ sat on a cattle prod ooer summat.

“Kinnel, wot time is it Mr Wulluf?” she said. “Ah have ter be off like. Ah’m supposed ter be on a mission o’ mercy. Ah can’t spend mi time chattin’ ter folks ah dunt know wot ‘ave one eyebrow reight across theyer fissogs!” Then, even as t’ words cum trippin’ off ‘er tongue, she remembered Granny’s tales abaat monobrow lycanthropes fra wen she wer naughty. “Oh bugger!” she thowatt. An’ ran off in t’ direction o’ Granny’s cottage screamin’ f’ aal she wer worth.

Wot Little Red Riding Hood hadn't realised wer that t’ sound o' t’ bell 'ad tuk Wulluf by surprise an' broken 'is mental hold ova her, allowing her ter do a runner!

"Why does that keep 'appenin' ter me?" 'e thowatt. "It's bad enuf ah have ter shave 15 times a day an' can understand coyotes in western movies. Folks runnin' off screamin' an aal is just bad form!"

But 'e dunt chase her. Only wot ‘e does like, is ‘e transforms issen in ter a wolf an goes an’ runs dead quick a different way thru t’ woods ter Granny’s cottage  behind t’ chippy – an’ walks straight in as bold as brass, turning back to a person agayen as ‘e did.

Granny wer in ‘er bed, wearin ‘er winceyette nightie, ‘er thick bottle bottom glasses, an’ a sleeping bonnet that wer once an owd tea cosy.  She looked at t’ blurry image that wer Wulluf an’ said, “If tha’s cum fer t’ window cleaning money, ah’ve no chuffin change. Tha’ll ‘ave ter cum back next week. Nah bugger off an leave an owd lady in peace!”

But Wulluf looked at her an’ growled, “Shut tha gob an’ get int’ wardrobe afore ah bite tha head off!”

“Well that’s no way ter talk ter an owd lady!” says Granny. “Ah wer in t’ war, ah’ll ‘ave thee know!” She leaned forrad an’ squinted at ‘im thru ‘er bottle bottom glasses an’ declared, “Well ah’ll go t’ foot o’ our stairs - appen tha’s a chuffin werewolf!” And adding as an after thowatt, “ Don’t go bloody thinkin’ tha can bring up a hair ball on my carpet!”

“Ah used ter be a werewolf – but ah’m alreight nowoooooooo!” replied Wulluf before tying ‘er up, gagging ‘er, an chuckin’ ‘er in t’ wardrobe aat o' sight.

Then ‘e put on ‘er tea cosy bonnet, ‘er bottle bottom glasses, a spare winceyette nightie ‘e faand in a drawer, an’ climbed in ter Granny’s bed. Wi ‘t covers pulled up high ter hide ‘is real sen, ‘e waited fer
Little Red Riding Hood ter arrive.  ‘is plan wer reight simple. ‘e wer gonna eat  ‘er! Then maybe Granny? Then leg off wi aal t’ weed.

‘e didn’t ‘ave long ter wait afore
Little Red Riding Hood arrived!

“Ey up Granny!” says
Little Red Riding Hood, burstin’ through t’ door a few minutes later. “Tha’ll nivver guess wot ‘appened ter me on t’ road ‘ere! Ah can barely believe it mi sen!”

“Ey up chuck!” say Wulluf in ‘is best Granny voice impression so Little Red Riding Hood dunt recognise ‘im. “Ast tha brought mi sum groceries?”

“Oh aye” she says startin’ ter unpack ter basket on ter Granny’s bed. “Well, ah met this bloke, see. An ‘e wer kind o’ strange lookin an....  an....” Little Red Riding Hood’s voice trailed off as she looked at ‘er Granny in that way kids do wen they think summat’s up.

“By eck Granny, tha’s got such big eyes ‘ant tha. Appen ah’ve nivver noticed that afore. Nor ‘ow they glow golden in t’ moonlight.”

“Aal t’ better t’ see thee with!” replied Wulluf as Granny.

So Little Red Riding Hood teks aat a bit mooare fruit, lays it on t’ bed an’ says, “Tha’s got chuffin hairy ears an’ aal Gran. Appen they need waxin’!”


"Aal t’ better t’ hear thee with mi dear!” says Granny.

“An ther’s summat different abaat tha teeth too. New dentures?”

“Aal t’ better f’ eatin’with!” replied Granny.

“An I think tha’s got a caterpillar on tha forehead behind tha glasses ooer tha’s grown a mono brow?” says Little Red Riding Hood with realisation dawning. “Which can mean only one thing... OMG! mi Granny’s a werewolf!”

“Ok, you’ve got me!” says Wulluf pulling back t’ covers, removing t’ bottle bottom glasses an’ t’ tea cosy bonnet, an’ leapin’ aat o’ bed.

“Oh it’s you, you!?” says Little Red Riding Hood in surprise. “Ah thowatt ah’d left thee back in t’ woods! Oh bollocks!”

“Yes tis me, agayen” says Wulluf. “An this is t’ bit wayer ah eat thee.” An wi that ‘e transforms issen back in ter a wolf an’ leaps at Little Red Riding Hood wi ‘is fangs bared.


Fortunately f’ Little Red Riding Hood, Wulluf ‘ad forgotten ter tek off Granny’s nightie afore transforming, so ‘e instantly got tangled up an’ jus’ crash landed agayen. This give ‘er t’ chance t’ tear-arse araand t’ other side o’ t’ bed.

Ah dunt know if tha’s ivver played ‘tig around t’ block’ afore, using an object like a car, or in fact a bed? Well, tis aal most impossible ter catch t’ other person until they tire aat. So f’ t’ next few minutes both Little Red Riding Hood an' Wulluf t’ werewolf,  ran raand an’ raand t’ bed like a kitten chasin’ it’s tale, screamin’ an’ shaatin’ an’ mekin’ such a din!

Nah unbeknown ter ‘em both, behind t’ back o’ Granny’s cottage, sum o’ t’ stable lads fra t’ Coach n’ Horses wer diggin aat a cess pit f’ Granny. Appen they’d swapped some manual labour f’ a few bags o’ weed an’ t chance t’ take Little Red Riding Hood aat ridin’ agayen. They’d finished diggin yon ‘ole an wer jus’ divertin’ Granny’s effluent aatflow in ter t’ pit, when they hears this almighty din fra inside Granny’s cottage.

“Ey up, that dunt saand reight” says one, an they aal leg it in ter Granny’s cottage ter be met by t’ sight o’a big wolf chasin’
Little Red Riding Hood raand an’ raand t’ bed. So quick as a flash like, one o’ em  gets ‘is chopper in ‘is ‘and -  an’ wi one clean swing, lops off t’ wolf’s head.

“Appen ‘e wer ‘avin’ a bad fur day!” ‘e said.

It wer claimed afterwards like, daan at t’ Coach an’ Horses, that t’ wolf wer that strong it ran araand t’ bed three mooare times wi no head afore dying. An that Little Red Riding Hood wer soo  grateful ter t’ stable lads f’ savin’ ‘er life, she went aat riding wi ‘em aal many mooare times atter that.

O’ course Granny wer quickly faand in t’ wardrobe only a little worse f’ were-wolf. But she quite rightly insisted they aal had a few medicinal glasses o’ Dandelion Gin an’ shared the odd spliff ooer three.   An ivverone agreed it seemed churlish ter argue wi a woman so worldly wise!

“Tell yer wot” says Granny, “Let’s drink ter t’ hair o’ t’ dog!” So they did.

No comments:

Post a Comment