Politically correct fairytailes

Just a collection of politically correct fairytales.Have fun.

Little Red Riding Hood – A Politically Correct Fairy Tale

There once was a young person named Red Riding Hood who lived with her mother on the edge of a large wood. One day her mother asked her to take a basket of fresh fruit and mineral water to her grandmother’s house — not because this was womyn’s work, mind you, but because the deed was generous and helped engender a feeling of community. Furthermore, her grandmother was not sick, but rather was in full physical and mental health and was fully capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.

So Red Riding Hood set off with her basket of food through the woods. Many people she knew believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place and never set foot in it. Red Riding Hood, however, was confident…

On her way to Grandma’s house, Red Riding Hood was accosted by a Wolf, who asked her what was in her basket. She replied, “Some healthful snacks for my grandmother, who is certainly capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.”

The Wolf said, “You know, my dear, it isn’t safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone.”

Red Riding Hood said, “I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop your own, entirely valid worldview. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way.”

Red Riding Hood walked on along the main path. But, because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the Wolf knew of a quicker route to Grandma’s house. He burst into the house and ate Grandma, an entirely valid course of action for a carnivore such as himself. Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist notions of what was masculine or feminine, he put on grandma’s nightclothes and crawled into bed.

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, “Grandma, I have brought you some fat-free, sodium-free snacks to salute you in your role of a wise and nurturing matriarch.”

From the bed, the Wolf said softly, “Come closer, child, so that I might see you.”

Red Riding Hood said, “Oh, I forgot you are as optically challenged as a bat. Grandma, what big eyes you have!”

“They have seen much, and forgiven much, my dear.”

“Grandma, what a big nose you have — only relatively, of course, and certainly attractive in its own way.”

“It has smelled much, and forgiven much, my dear.”

“Grandma, what big teeth you have!”

The Wolf said, “I am happy with and what I am,” and leaped out of bed. He grabbed Red Riding Hood in his claws, intent on devouring her. Red Riding Hood screamed, not out of alarm at the Wolf’s apparent tendency toward cross-dressing, but because of his willful invasion of her personal space.

Her screams were heard by a passing woodchopper-person (or log-fuel technician, as he preferred to be called). When he burst into the cottage, he saw the melee and tried to intervene. But as he raised his ax, Red Riding and the Wolf both stopped.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” asked Red Riding Hood.

The woodchopper-person blinked and tried to answer, but no words came to him.

“Bursting in here like a Neanderthal, trusting your weapon to do your thinking for you!” she said. “Sexist! Speciesist! How dare you assume that womyn and wolves can’t solve their own problems without a man’s help!”

When she heard Red Riding Hood’s speech, Grandma jumped out of the mouth, took the woodchopper-person’s axe, and cut his head off. After this ordeal, Red Riding Hood, Grandma, and the Wolf felt a certain commonality of purpose. They decided to set up an alternative household based on mutual respect and cooperation, and they lived together in the woods happily ever after.

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Snow White

Once there was a young princess who was not at all unpleasant to look at and had a temperament that many found to be more pleasant than most other people’s. Her nickname was Snow White. After her mother’s death, her father, the king asked another wommon to be his queen. Snow white did her best to please her new mother-of step, but a cold distance remained between them.

The queen’s prized possession was a magic mirror that would answer truthfully any question asked it. Now, years of social conditioning in a male hierarchial dictatorship had left the queen very insecure about her own self-worth. Physical beauty was the one standard she cared about now, and she defined herself solely in regard to her personal appearance. So every morning the queen would ask the mirror:

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Who’s the fairest one of all?”

Her mirror would anwer:

“For all it’s worth, O my queen, Your beauty is the fairest to be seen.”
That dialogue went on regularly until once when the queen was having a bad hair day and was desperately in need of support, she asked the usual question and the mirror answered:

“Alas, if worth be based on beauty, Snow White has surpassed you, cutie.”

At this, the queen flew into a rage. She ordered the royal woodsperson to take Snow White into the forest and kill her. The woodsperson, a kind soul, sadly agreed to these orders, and led the girl, who was actually now a young wommon, into the middle of the forest. He told Snow White of the oppressive and unsisterly order of the queen and told her to run as deeply as she could into the forest.

Snow White ran deep into the woods. Just when she thought she had fled as far as she could form civilization and its unhealthy influences, she stumbled upon a cottage. Inside she saw seven tiny beds, set in a row and all unmade. The beds looked so inviting that the tired youngster curled up on one and immediately fell asleep.

When she awoke several hours later, she saw the faces of seven bearded, vertically challenged men surrounding the bed. She sat up with a start and gasped. One of the men said, “You see that? Just like a flighty woman: resting peacefully one minute, up and screaming the next.”

When Snow White finally regained her senses, she begged, “Please, please don’t kill me. I meant no harm by sleeping on your bed. I thought no one would ever notice.”

“Don’t try to play victim with us, kid!” Snarled one man.

“Yes, we are known as the seven towering giants!” cried another, “And we are dedicated stewards of the earth and live here in harmony with nature. To make ends meet, we also conduct retreats for those who need to get in touch with their primitive masculine identities.”

“So what does that involve,” asked Snow White, “aside from drinking milk straight from the carton?”

“Your sarcasm is ill-advised,” warned the leader of the Seven Towering Giants. “My fellow giants want to get rid of our corrupting feminine presence, and I might not be able to stop them, understand? My men, we must speak our hearts openly and honestly. Let us adjourn to the sweat lodge!”

Meanwhile, back at the castle, the queen rejoiced at the thought that her rival in beauty had been eliminated. She puttered around her boudoir reading Elle and Glamour, and indulged herself with three whole pieces of chocolate without purging. Later, she confidently strolled up to her magic mirror and asked her same, sad question:

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Who’s the fairest one of all?”

The mirror replied,

“Your weight is perfect for your shape and height, But for sheer OOOOMPH!, you can’t beat Snow White.”

At this news, the queen clenched her fists and screamed at the top of her lungs. For years, her insecurities had been eating away at her until now they turned her into someone who was morally out of the mainstream. With cunning and malice, she began to devise a plan to ensure the nonviability of her daughter-of-step.

A few days later, there was a knock on the door of the cottage. Snow White opened the door to find a chronologically gifted woman with a basket in her hand. By the look of her clothes, she was apparently unfettered by the confines of regular employment.

“Help a woman of unreliable income, dearie,” she said, “and buy one of my apples.”

Snow White thought for a moment. In protest against agribusiness conglomerates, she had a personal rule against buying food from middlepersons. but her heart went out to the economically marginalized woman, so she said yes. Little did she know this apple was poisoned.

The queen burst into tears.

“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Snow White.

“You’re so young and beautiful.” sobbed the queen. “How do you stay in such perfect shape?”

“Well, I meditate, work out in step aerobics three hours a day, and eat only half-portions of anything placed in front of me. Would you like me to show you?”

“Oh, yes, yes, please,” said the queen. So they started out with 30 minutes of simple hatha yoga meditation, then worked out on step for another hour. As they relaxed afterward, Snow White cut her apple in half and gave a piece to the queen. Without thinking, the queen bit into it, and both of them fell into a deep sleep.

Later that day, the Seven Towering Giants returned from a retreat in the woods, elaborately decked out in animal skins, feathers, and mud. With them was a prince from a nearby kingdom, who had come on this male retreat to find a cure for his impotence (or, as he preferred to call it, his involuntary suspension from phallocentric activity.) They were all laughing and high-fiving until they saw the bodies stopped short.

“What has happened?” asked the prince.

“Apparently our house guest and this other woman got into some sort of catfight and killed each other,” surmised one giant.

“You know,” said the prince, “this might sound a little sick, but I trust you guys. I find that younger one attractive. Extremely attractive. Would you fellows mind…um…waiting outside while I…?”

“Stop right there!” said the leader of the giants. “These half-eaten apple pieces, that filthy-costume–this has all the earmarks of some sort of magic spell. They’re not really dead at all.”

“Whew,” sighed the prince, “that makes me feel better. So, could you guys take five and let me…?”

“Hold it, Prince,” said the leader. “Does Snow White make you feel like a man again?”

“She certainly does. Now, could you guys…?”

“Don’t touch her! You’ll break the spell.”

Then the pieces of poisoned apple fell from the mouths of Snow White and the queen, and they awoke from the spell.

“What do you think you’re doing? Put us down!” they shouted. The giants were so startled they almost dropped the womyn to the floor.

“That’s the most sickening thing I have ever heard!” shouted the queen. “Offering us around like pieces of property!”

“And you,” said Snow White to the prince, “trying to make it with a girl in a coma! Yuck!”

There was much shouting and name-calling, but the queen eventually had her way. Before the Seven Towering Giants could be evicted from their home, though, they packed up their sweat lodge and moved deeper into the woods. The prince stayed on at the spa as a cute but harmless tennis pro. And Snow White and the queen became good friends and earned world-wide fame for their contributions to sisterhood. The giants were never heard from again, save for little muddy footprints that were sometimes found in the morning outside the windows of the spa`s locker room.

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Three Little Pigs

Once there were 3 little pigs who lived together in mutual respect and in harmony with their environment. Using materials that were indigenous to the area they each built a beautiful house. One pig built a house of straw, one a house of sticks, and one a house of dung, clay and creeper vines shaped into bricks and baked in a small kiln. When they were finished, the pigs were satisfied with their work and settled back to live in peace and self-determination.

But their idyll was soon shattered. One day, along came a big, bad wolf with expansionist ideas. He saw the pigs and grew very hungry in both a physical and ideological sense.

When the pigs saw the wolf, they ran into the house of straw. The wolf ran up to the house and banged on the door, shouting, “Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!”

The pigs shouted back, “Your gunboat tactics hold no fear for pigs defending their homes and culture.”

But the wolf wasn’t to be denied what he thought was his manifest destiny. So he huffed and puffed and blew down the house of straw. The frightened pigs ran to the house of sticks, with the wolf in hot pursuit. Where the house had stood, other wolves bought up the land and started a banana plantation.

At the house of sticks, the wolf again banged on the door and shouted, “Little, pigs, little pigs, let me in!”

The pigs shouted back, “Go to hell, you carnivorous, imperialistic oppressor!”

At this the wolf huffed and puffed and blew down the house of sticks. The pigs ran to the house of bricks, with the wolf close at their heels. Where the house of sticks had stood, other wolves built a time-share condo resort complex for vacationing wolves, with each unit a fibreglass reconstruction of the house of sticks, as well as native curio shops, snorkelling and dolphin shows.

At the house of bricks, the wolf again banged on the door and shouted, “Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!”

This time in response, the pigs sang songs of solidarity and wrote letters of protest to the United Nations.

By now the wolf was getting angry at the pigs’ refusal to see the situation from the carnivore’s point of view. So he huffed and puffed, and huffed and puffed, then grabbed his chest and fell over dead from a massive heart attack brought on from eating too many fatty foods.

The three little pigs rejoiced that justice had triumphed and did a little dance around the corpse of the wolf. Their next step was to liberate their homeland. They gathered together a band of other pigs who had been forced off their lands. This new brigade of porcinistas attacked the resort complex with machine-guns and rocket launchers and slaughtered the cruel wolf oppressors, sending a clear signal to the rest of the hemisphere not to meddle in their internal affairs. Then the pigs set up a model socialist democracy with free education, universal health care and affordable housing for everyone. {My note: well it is a fairy tale after all.}

Please note: The wolf in this story was a metaphorical construct. No actual wolves were harmed in the writing of the story.

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Cinderella

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, lived a noble gentleman and his (without denoting any real possession) dear daughter. She was very beautiful – her breasts were centrally located and she was cosmetically gifted.

He loved her very much, and he was worried that she was lonely, as her mother was metabolically challenged, and dwelled 6 feet underground. So the gentleman conjoined in a purely egalitarian partnership with a lady who had (without denoting any real possession) two daughters of her own, figuring that they’d be kind and sweet to his own lovely offspring.

Instead, they made her do all the domestic labour, and made her wear the clothes a financially disadvantaged person (or perdaughter) would. Both girls were aesthetically different and had a more challenging odour than would be normal, as well as having their own unique, rather liberal, moral codes, allowing them to bully and taunt the poor girl and make her do all the chores. The poor child would spend her days in the cellar, peeling potatoes, sat in a hunch in the corner by the chimney, and for this reason the sisters nicknamed her ‘Cinderella’.

One day, it was announced that one of the most financially advantaged people in the town, the King’s son, was going to throw a big ball. The sisters were asked to go, and they were so excited they ran around for days, laughing hersterically. They bought themselves fancy dresses that were so stuffed with jewels they stood up by themselves, and spent days and days talking about all the people of important social status that they planned to meet.

The great day arrived, and Cinderella found herself in the cellar by herself. “I wish I could go to the ball,” she said to herself. “I bet I could pull that prince – I’m far prettier than those two unconventional-looking, loved-by-spots, 300-pound dinosaurs. I’m far more preferable to men.” The two sisters departed, and Cinderella stayed at home and moaned to the silence.

It was not long until there was a big puff of blue smoke and a rather festively-formed, full-figured, gravitationally-powerful woman appeared. It was her fairy godmother. Cinderella recognised her at once.

“I really want…”Cinderella started.

“To go to the ball,” finished the godmother. Cinderella nodded. “Despite how much I support your freedom to be emotional, since I’m considering your own success here I would ask you politely to cease crying, lest it hinder you. Now go to the garden and get me a pumpkin.”

Cinderella could not imagine how a pumpkin could help her to get to the ball – unfortunately she was rather intellectually impaired and did not yet appreciate that the fat woman who had appeared out of thin air was magic. Nonetheless, she took herself to the garden and took the biggest pumpkin she could carry back to the fairy godmother, who tapped it with her wand, turning it into a golden coach lined with white satin.

The godmother tapped Cinderella on the head and turned her shabby clothes into a stunning white silk dress. Cinderella was concerned for the fate of the silkworms, but considered how the dress was made – using magic – and decided to forget about it. She looked at herself in the full length mirror, and remarked on her slippers, which were made of glass.

“Now go and get me 6 mice from the luxury mouse-trap with fitted mouse-furniture and a mouse television with specific mouse programming in the kitchen, and a big juicy rat.”

With a touch of the wand, each mouse turned into a horse, and the rat turned into a coach driver. Cinderella grew more concerned.

“Fairy godmother,” Cinderella said, “I am concerned for the wellbeing of these horses and this coach driver. One day they were vermin – not that vermin are lesser life forms, of course, and the next thing you know they’re horses and people, and I don’t plan to pay or feed any of them. Considering they’re working for nothing, exactly where should my morals lie in using them?”

“Shut up and get in the carriage, you selfish brat,” the godmother replied. “Oh, and, if you stay in the palace for one second after midnight, all my magic will vanish and you’ll be cosmetically challenged and in your monetarily inexpensive clothes.”

A few moments later, the coach was rolling down towards the ball with the excited Cinderella inside. She arrived and strode up to the prince, slamming her lips into his and they embraced. For the rest of the night, Cinderella and the prince were constantly in each other’s arms, and the two sisters, who did not recognise their own stepsister, were rather flattered when she spoke some words to them.

The hours flew by so happily that Cinderella did not even notice the time until it the clock began to strike midnight. With a cry of alarm she fled from the room. One of the glass slippers flew from her foot and landed on a crate of beer as she struggled to leave the ball before one second past midnight. The prince hurried after her, but, when he reached the entrance hall, she couldn’t find the beautiful girl – just a cinder-maid in a ragged grey dress.

Cinderella hurried home through the dark streets, overwhelmed with shame.

The next day, there was a great procession of trumpets and drums as a regal possession went through the town, going from place to place, at the head of which sat the king’s son. He held a glass slipper on a red pillow, as a herald announced that any lady in the land who could fit the slipper on her foot and could produce the pair would be to marry the prince, if both parties agreed and if the housework was shared equally. Both sisters tried, but their feet were too spacious to squeeze in. Cinderella begged to try, and, to the scorn of her sisters, the prince agreed.

The slipper slipped easily on, and Cinderella pulled the second glass slipper from her pocket. The prince was overjoyed, and wrapped his arms warmly around the pretty cinder maid.

Cinderella spoke up. “Despite the romantic ending of this story, emotionally I feel a little flat. You have fallen in love with me because the fairy godmother made me look pretty, and I’m not convinced that that is a satisfactory basis for a marriage – you don’t even know me. We have only met on one occasion, and, like in this story, I haven’t even established my true character or personality to you – you have no real idea of how well we’d get along. I know you think you have noble and chivalrous intentions but in the context of this story they just reinforce negative notions about male dominance – you’re a prince, I’m a cinder maid, and I have no real interest in you to be honest – at least, no interest further than a purely financial one. It might be a happy ending because I’ll be royalty, but I want so much more!”

“I know,” the prince replied. “I’m completely loaded. I’ve got big palaces and we wouldn’t even have to see each other really, except when we’re having sex or ‘Deal or No Deal’ is on. I don’t need a woman with personality – just human contact.”

“So there’d be no love in our marriage? You’re really only interested in me because I’m an attractive female? Just a sex object? You Neanderthal!”

“Alas, yes, but trust me, you’ll enjoy it. It’s a massive social step up and you’ll have loads of money. You bloody feminists – Jesus – you’re just as human as I am when it comes down to it. Your life will be fantastic if we get married, and I don’t even care if you go off hunting for other men – so long as we still have sex and watch ‘Deal or No Deal’. I’m really easy to live with. If you marry me right now, you will definitely live happily ever after. It’s your choice though, of course.”

Cinderella told the prince she didn’t want to be objectified by a man, and refused point-blank. She carried on being treated like a source of free labour by her morally challenged step-sisters and died in a home for the mentally impaired.