Evidence that not all fairy tales work out as expected

Once upon a time, a girl with hair as yellow as sunflowers was skipping through the woods when she spied a wolf.

'Cut!' said the director.  'What moron brought the wolf in here?  There's no wolf in this story.  What a bunch of IDIOTS I work with.  They can't do anything right.  Why the hell did I ever ....'

Just as he was saying this, and flailing his hands in the air in frustration, an assistant was taking a call on his mobile, and saying, 'Yeah, it's in studio 3.  Sorry, sorry.  Yeah, Studio 13, I got it.  I'll get someone to bring it along.'



Once upon a time, a girl with hair as yellow as sunflowers was skipping through the woods when she spied a bent-over old lady in a badly-fitting headscarf and holding an apple with one shiny side.

'Cut!' yelled the director again.  'Who brought in the crone?  Get. Rid. Of. The. Crone.  There IS no crone in this story.  Give me STRENGTH!  You guys couldn't organise yourselves out of a paper BAG already!'

Just as he was saying this, an assistant was taking a call on his mobile, and saying, 'Yep.  She's here.  Studio 3.  Where do you need her?  Yep, okay.  I'll send her along.  Apologies.'

The crone stood up straight, swore, said, 'Not AGAIN!', threw the apple at the wall, and stamped off the set, tugging off her headscarf as she went, revealing hair dyed unlikely red.



Once upon a time, a girl with hair as yellow as sunflowers was skipping through the woods when she spied a tiny little thatched cottage with checked curtains at the windows and smoke curling from its chimney into the wide blue sky.

'Thank God for THAT!' said the director.

The director's new flat cap regime wasn't making the difference he'd hoped it would.

The little girl peered into the window of the cottage, and there she spied three pigs, sitting eating toast with jam.

She turned back and said to the director, 'Harvey.  Get over here, will you, and look at this.  I've had enough of this crap from all of you lot.  I have a kid to feed.'

The casting director, sitting on a chair in the corner of the studio, furtively drew a bottle of pills from her handbag and threw a couple into her mouth, gulping hard.

There was a long silence while the director looked into the window of the cottage.  He eventually swivelled round and faced everyone standing on the set.  His face was beetroot, and his mouth kept opening and shutting.

The crew and cast waited.

The actress playing Goldilocks waited.

The three little pigs waited, the toast cooling on their plates.

The director looked at his watch and mumbled, 'Half an hour.  We have half an hour.  I mean, do they want me to have a CORonary?'

A very young assistant laughed nervously and risked a joke in order to break the tension.  'Harv, shall I look up instantbears.com for you?'  Another member of the crew took him by his long floppy hair and dragged him off the set.



Once upon a time, a girl with hair as yellow as sunflowers and three pigs improvised a tale in which they invited Goldilocks in to share toast with them while they planned their move from home and journey to independence.  'I know,' said the smallest pig, excitedly.  'I'll build a house of twigs for us all to live in, and then, we'll all go in the house, and then, we'll hear a rustling in the trees, and we'll realise that there's a ..............'

'Cut!' screamed the director.  'If. You. Say. Wolf. I. Swear. I'm. Going. To -'

'............ that there's a breeze getting up,' continued the smallest pig.

An even stranger interpretation of the Goldilocks story in which the bears were as camp as Christmas
and Goldilocks was three times their size.