I can’t be serious for long. I give you more Silly Stories with Rabia:
The Valet’s Revenge (for all of you who’ve wondered the very same thing I always do when I read Cinderella):
“I will marry the maiden whose foot fits this glass slipper of rare beauty,” declared the prince to his long-suffering valet. “This have I said, and thus it shall be done.”
And that is how Prince Charming married One-Eyed Moll, greasy-haired, gap-toothed, reeking of onion, seventy years old, beggar by trade, and possessor of small slender feet.
And then there’s this one, which sprang fully-formed into my head one day:
The terrible Wibblefuzz chased Willy Wilkins from forest to field, from moor to mountain, roaring and snarling and garrumph-ing all the way. Finally, poor Willy, faint with exhaustion, fell to the ground.
The dread beast bounded up and stood salivating over Willy’s trembling body. “Excuse me!” it said. “But you dropped your wallet back in the forest! Here it is.”