A Girl, A Boy, A Witch and An Oven
by Rue DeDay
Once upon a time, far, far away, there was an enchanted
land where the animals could talk. You can't get there from here without
major pharmaceuticals, so don't even try. OK? You're just kids after all,
sheesh. And stay in school. I forgot to tell you earlier, but stay in school
anyway.
In this enchanted land there was a little girl and a little
boy. They had names and all, like most little girls and boys, but let's see
if we get attached to them before we tell their names. OK? They could be
real jerks, and you wouldn't want to know them anyway. You just can't tell.
The little girl and the little boy, oh heck their names
are Eric and Margery. Actually it was Margery and Eric, we mentioned the
girl first. Margery and Eric (who liked to be called "Spizzer" by the way,
not that I'm going to call him "Spizzer" in this story, but he did
like to be called "Spizzer", just so you know) were left in the deep dark
woods by their stepfather. A Wicked Stepfather, I'll bet you didn't see that
coming. The deep dark woods were officially known as Shady Acres. Some developer
thought that sounded nice. "Shady Acres", yup, better than "The Swamp of
Death", or "Cholera Junction". The developer went out of business. The woods
might be called "Shady Acres", but they were really more like "The Swamp
of Death". Just goes to show you, advertising only goes so far.
"Why were Margery and Eric left in Shady Acres?" you ask.
Well how the heck should I know? Oh, yeah. I'm the Omniscient Narrator. They
got left in the deep dark Shady Acres because Margery left her shoes out
all the time. And she wouldn't put powder in them and they smelled. Really
bad. Eric got left because he was a sap and wouldn't leave Margery's side.
She might have had something incriminating on him. Who knows? You don't,
and I'm not going to speculate. They were left out in the woods and it was
getting dark. When it gets dark in the woods and they, the woods, are already
deep and dark, you know that's not a good thing. Martha Stewart couldn't
even make that a "Good Thing". Nope, if Martha Stewart was left in the deep
dark Shady Acres and it got dark, well darker, she'd be screwed. You know
who would be OK in the deep dark Shady Acres? Robots. Killer Space Robots
with Crushing Claws© and Laser Beam Eyes® and Flaming Jets of Sure
Death™. Maybe some Plasma Bombs(pat.pend.) thrown in for
good measure. Yeah, robots would be OK. Not some fussy protocol droid, though.
He'd be toast.
As it got darker in the dark woods, the children were getting
scared. There's not much stinky feet or an over-developed sense of loyalty
will do for you is the scary forest after dark. "Hmmm," the wolves would
say, "I don't believe I will eat those feet. They stink. And the little boy
is a touch too sacharine. Pity we didn't have more salt." Oh, yeah, the wolves
will eat you, but they'll give you a bad review. (I know wolves don't really
eat people. There has never been a recorded case of a healthy wolf attacking
a person. "Stereotypes like this are what causes such grief for Our Friends
the Wolf," you say. To you I say "Shut up." It's my story. If you want one
with a ballanced viewpoint and sympathy for wolves, write your own. I won't
stop you. It won't be as good as mine, but do what you want.)
"Maybe we should leave a trail of breadcrumbs. So we can
find our way out of the woods." said Eric
"You had bread? Gimme! I'm starving!"
"What's that over there?"
"What? That house-looking thing that smells of gingerbread?
How the hell should I know?" Margery wasn't the sharpest stick in the tiger
trap.
"I think it's a house. Made out of gingerbread!" said Eric.
"Let's go see." He was really only marginally brighter than Margery.
They get to the house and, Lo! it was made out of
gingerbread. The children were so hungry they didn't think twice. Technically,
they didn't think once. If you're lost in a deep dark woods, even one called
Shady Acres, and you, quite by chance, happen upon a house made of gingerbread,
do you really think you should take a bite of it? I mean, really?
"Don't eat that!" a voice called out of the dark.
"Why not?" Margery asked. She was a cheeky one, wasn't
she?
"That ain't icing. I've been having trouble with birds
of late. Crows sit up on the peek of the roof, and it just looks like
icing dripping off the eaves."
"Who are you?" asked Eric. He was at least marginally brighter
than Margery. In the words of Sun Tzu, the author of The Art of War,
"Know whose house you're going to eat before you take a bite out of
it." It only makes sense.
"I am Baba Yaga." said an old woman from a window. "Are
you here to fix my oven?"
"Oh, well, good luck with that. I never get involved in
domestic disputes. No percentage in it, even if you are a Russian witch."
said Baba Yaga.
And her house rose up on giant chicken legs and walked
away, deeper into the deep dark forest, which was getting darker. Margery
and Eric were never seen again.
Posted 8/13/01
"No, we're two lost children. Lost in the deep dark woods. Left to die by
our Wicked Stepfather." wailed Margery.