Writers were asked to in 99 words, no more, no less, fracture a fairy tale.
They were told that the story must:
- involve a recognizable fairy tale, character or setting,
- feature food,
- entertain or surprise with a twist or a new point of view.
Only entries that met the criteria are included in this compilation.
FIRST PLACE: Scarlett by Nancy Brady
SECOND PLACE: Friends of Goldilocks by Hugh W. Roberts
THIRD PLACE: Untitled by Sam Kirk
HON MEN: Not-so Modern Love by Liz Husebye Hartmann; Goldie’s Quest by D.G. Kaye; An untitled story by Geoff Le Pard.
Scarlett by Nancy Brady
It was the end of Scarlett’s long day at her new job when she got a text from her mother:
“Take dinner to Gram.”
Grabbing some food from the establishment, Scarlett then plugged Gram’s new address into her GPS, and set off in her little red Bug towards The Woods Senior Living Complex.
Yet, despite this, she got lost, making a wrong turn. At a stop light, she saw a handsome young man. She asked for help. Sniffing the aroma, he smiled wolfishly, gave her directions, and then hoofed it to Gram’s for Domino’s deluxe pepperoni and sausage pizza.
Friends of Goldilocks by Hugh W. Roberts
Looking in the fridge, Goldilocks was surprised the Bear family had left milk. However, it had turned sour, so she couldn’t make herself a big bowl of porridge to get rid of her hunger pains.
This was pointless, thought Goldilocks, as she got out her mobile phone to check who else had told their Facebook friends they were away.
Sure enough, local food blogger Chris P. Bacon had informed her followers that she was on an overnight food hygiene course.
Perfect. Not only would there be plenty to eat, but Goldilocks could rob the house at the same time.
Untitled by Sam Kirk
The wolf was hungry and needed some action. On his way, he saw a beautiful girl in a straw house.
“Let me in, or I’ll blow your house in.”
“I don’t negotiate with terrorists” – were her last words.
Next, the wolf stumbled upon a house made of sticks.
“Let me in, or I’ll blow your house in.”
“I don’t negotiate with terrorists” – were her last words.
He salivated at the thought of bacon, looking at a piggie in a brick house.
He repeated his line.
“Not on my watch” – she shot him and used his fur as a rug.
Not-so Modern Love by Liz Husebye Hartmann
“WTF! You cut off your toes to fit into my glass slipper? And you cut off your heel! What were you thinking?”
“Cindy!” The two stepsisters looked at each other. “You gotta give up something if you wanna marry a prince!”
Cindy rolled her eyes, grabbed an apple, and pushed through the kitchen door. “You found my slipper?”
“We’ll see,” Flashing his perfect princely grin, he held out the sparkling shoe.
She took it and slid it on.
“Perfect fit!” he crooned. “Now, I also require a prenuptial lobotomy…”
She crunched into the apple. “You really are a jerk.”
Goldie’s Quest by D.G. Kaye
Starving and exhausted, Goldie trudged through the forest scavenging for anything edible when she discovered the house in the woods.
Goldie rapped on the door. Curious and desperate, she tugged on the door handle, elated to find it unlocked.
The aroma of freshly cooked sauce filled her nostrils and aroused her taste buds as she spotted three bowls of pasta.
Goldie didn’t hesitate to gobble up all three bowls then headed for the couch for a nap.
Half hour later she awakened to the discomfort of her rumbling, expanding stomach.
“Oh crap,” Goldie exclaimed. “That pasta was not gluten-free!”
Untitled by Geoff Le Pard
‘Mr ‘ansel? Bad news I’m afraid.’
‘Again? Do you builders ever bring good news?’
‘In Fairyland? You’ll want a happy ending next. It’s the gingerbread cladding…’
‘Yes? Has the cost gone up?’
‘I can’t get any, even with a sack of giant’s beans. You’ll have to make do with carrot or pumpkin.’
‘No way. You heard what happened with that Ella woman?’
‘That’s the one. Her godmother turned the town’s allotment into transport. No one’s changing my house into a veggie vehicle. Where’s the gingerbread gone?’
‘It’s that caterpillar, gone for partially peckish to very hungry and…’ *shrugs
Cinderella’s Pumpkin by Ritu Bhathal
She watched, as her fairy godmother turned the pumpkin into a glorious carriage, then the mice to horses.
“Go, my dear! Find your Prince!”
It was a whirlwind of food, dance and laughter.
He loved her, she was sure of it, but that dreaded bell had to chime, didn’t it?
The beautifully crafted glass slipper left behind in the rush, she would mourn.
But not as much as that giant pumpkin.
It had been the largest one in the garden.
Oh, the plans she’d had for that beautiful gourd.
All those potential meals, ruined, and for what?
A Crime In The Name Of Cooking by Geoff Le Pard
‘Dad believed in role assignment.’
‘Ok, and this girl…’
‘… stole your breakfast?’
‘Upset everyone. Daddy, Baby.’
‘Cute names. And you Miss? Why?’
‘They had three bowls. I only…’
‘You’re from Fairytown, Miss?’
‘Seems everyone’s food obsessed there. I… Yes, control?’
‘Sarge? You near the Magical Forest? Someone’s eating Cottages again.’
‘Bloody Hell, Doreen. Can’t someone else go? PC Gretel?’
‘On a call. Wolfie’s in a huff, threatening to cook his neighbours.’
‘This place is worse than Newcastle on a wet Saturday. DI Rapunzel?’
‘Also busy. That Cereal Killer is back, apparently.’
Trouble of the Set-Behind the Scenes of the 1937 Production of Snow White and the Seven (or Eight) Smaller Individuals by Bill Engleson
“Disney can’t be trusted.”
“Oh, Gumbo. Stop complaining. Life’s too short.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re getting star ingenue wages. And my seven thespian amigos are getting mucho moolah as well. Me, what am I getting? Leftovers. A hefty dose of not much.”
Snow White, aka Gladys Glutenski from Ponchatoula Louisiana, sympathized with the sad eighth dwarf. He’d gotten the short end of Walt’s stick. Hired on as a culinary grip, her personal pastry chef, he was indispensable…to her.
“I love your strawberry shortcake.”
Gumbo thought, how can I tell her she’s eaten herself out of a job?
Momma’s Revenge by Darlene Foster
Momma Bear took the porridge off the stove. She placed a huge steaming spoonful in Poppa Bear’s bowl, a medium dollop in hers and scrapped the rest into Baby Bear’s special little bowl. She hoped that nosey, spoilt Goldilocks left it alone while they went for their morning walk to collect berries. Nothing like oatmeal with fresh berries. She couldn’t understand why that bratty girl always broke into their house and did damage, breaking chairs and messing up the bed. Wasn’t she supposed to be afraid of bears? She grinned as she sprinkled chilli pepper in baby bear’s bowl.
Goldilocks Hates Chocolate by Marjorie Mallon
Goldilocks was due to arrive at any moment. Little bear kept a look-out for papa bear and mama bear hoping that they wouldn’t return too early from their leisurely morning walk.
Goldilocks sauntered in and handed little bear a huge chocolate croissant which he ate down greedily.
Goldie sat on the floor and tucked in to little bear’s bowl of steaming porridge.
‘Ugh, how can you eat that muck, Goldie?’
‘It’s yummy. I hate chocolate and sweet things.’
‘With a name like Goldilocks it’s no wonder you’re weird. Porridge reminds me of sticky snot.’
‘Rubbish, it’s mighty gold-i-delicious gunk!’
In Spades by JulesPaige
Ron Wolf was a wily politician. This year he was being challenged by Porter Pigg. Porter’s brothers Sam and Ned said they were going to rake Ron over his pork barrel projects, which they had deemed to be full of hot air. But Ron had his own scrapple on those Pigg brothers!
Wolf had been whining and dining the wealthy widow grandmother of Little Red. Ron sent his brother Ralph, who had bullied Little Red, to the Hunter’s Military Academy; out of state. That had made the widow very happy. It really paid to be holding the trump cards.
A Golden Backstory by JulesPaige
Ms. Goldie Locks had become a recognized attorney. Few knew the backstory. That as a child she had trespassed at the Baer’s. As a child she had only stolen some porridge to fill her hunger. The Baer’s hadn’t pressed charges. What they did do was take in the orphan and provide a wonderful education.
Goldie excelled under the loving tutelage of the Baer family. Of course she would represent them when the Mega Resorts wanted to buy up the land.
With an impassioned plea, Ms. Locks won her case of protecting the forest. The Baer’s lived happily ever after.
Rapunzel by Saifun Hassam
Pregnant, Belle feasted on sumptuous pasta salads savoring those delicious rapunzel leaves stolen from the Witch’s Garden.
The Witch watched all on her camcorder. She took away Belle’s baby, named her Rapunzel and imprisoned her in the penthouse. Bewitched by Rapunzel’s beauty, Prince Campanula flew with his magic cape into the penthouse.
The lovers fled down a gold and silver staircase. Halfway down, Rapunzel’s golden tresses and the Prince’s magic cape became entangled, and to their death they fell.
The Witch buried the lovers in the Garden, where every summer, a flowerbed of rapunzels waves gaily in the breeze.
For Better or Worse by JulesPaige
Jack Horner and Peter Piper met in northern California in the early 1970’s. They joined volunteers who along with Gilbert Baker and Harvey Milk proudly flew one of two hand dyed and hand stitched Rainbow flags in San Francisco on June 28, 1978.
Colors in the flag represented: hot pink, sex; red, life; orange, healing; yellow, sunlight;
green, nature; turquoise, magic/art; indigo, serenity and violet, spirit. In 1979 the flag was modified when turquoise was removed.
Jack and Peter now in their seventies, often talk over beer and brats on how things have changed for them since then.
Theatrical Grimalkins! by JulesPaige
Show business can turn your life upside down. That wasn’t a problem for The Pride and their fabulous aerialist act. The team consisted of two sisters and their brother.
Kitty, Catherine and Tiger were triplets who played nightly near Caesars Palace in Las Vegas. The svelte trio were so acrobatic and were just amazing to watch. These cats always seemed to land on their feet even after twirling and seemingly falling from death defying heights.
Momma Lionnie, their mother was a now a famed mince meat pie maker, who fondly remembered them as forgetful children, always losing their mittens.
Psychedelic Red by James M Caldwell
Red’s parent were Aster and Moonglow. They were founding members of Blue Earth commune located in ever green northern California. One morning Moonglow asked her daughter Red to deliver a macrame bag of mushrooms to dear old Granny also a lava lamp that Aster had repaired for her. Red dawned her best tie dyed shawl and headed off down the dark forest path. It wasn’t long before she was lost. She was spotted four days later on a stolen moped being pushed by a wolf in bell bottoms, sporting a mullet, and wearing a bandanna of yellow caution tape.
The Boy Who Cried Werewolf by H.R.R. Gorman
A shepherd boy’s mother was turned into a werewolf who ate his father, leaving the child alone to tend the flock. The child developed an idea. He went into town and shouted, “Wolf! Help!”
The villagers sprung into action. Once they arrived at the pasture, they saw no wolf and chastised the child. The child argued, “Your response time is terrible!”
The townspeople stomped back home.
A few days later, a sheep bleated. The boy’s werewolf mother had returned for slaughter. He sprinted to town and cried, “Wolf!”
“Buzz off, liar!”
Soon after, his mother ate all the townspeople.
Idiosyncrasy of Aristocracy by Kerry E.B. Black
They drop presents, homage to their queen, but I only see their hypocrisy.
They ignored Stepmother’s abuse. They forgave her murder attempts, overlooked her desired cannibalism, considered it part of the idiosyncrasy of aristocracy.
What they found unforgivable is laughable.
Our kingdom’s apple crops are world-renowned, a source of national pride.
So when Stepmother used one to poison me into a nearly-eternal sleep, the people struck images of her from public places and currency, hoping to erase the embarrassment and possible financial ramifications.
I remember, though. They forgave Stepmother’s tyranny. Now they’ll do the same for their Queen Snow.
Present Rewards by JulesPaige
Jack Sprat and his wife, Jull were yoyo dieters. For years they were polar opposites. Too thin, too thick. No love handles, or spare tires that could have retrofitted a Mac Truck. They had tried counting points, buying prepackaged portioned meals and even drinking smoothies of kale and bananas.
Then one day they just started living in moderation. They treated themselves to eat out once a month. And restricted what was in the larder to fruits, vegetables and grains that were made tasty by adding spices.
Jack filled out. Jull slimmed down. They celebrated with a vacation to Cancun.
Untitled by Chelsea Owens
Prince Charming sat, morose.
“Sir?!” His paige approached. “Your Highness requested we search for the girl -”
“…Lady… and report if we found anything…”
The prince looked up. Hope peeked from a drawn, pale face. “Well?”
*Ahem* “We scoured the dance floor…”
The light in Charming’s eyes dimmed slightly.
“But,” Stebbs continued, “Then we searched the landing.”
“We-e-e-ell, actually, nothing as well.”
“But,” the paige said, “Then we went to the staircase.”
Prince Charming steeled himself. “And?”
His paige proudly extracted an object from his waistcoat. “The lady left behind …An apple core!”
Untitled by Chelsea Owens
“Erg damatha gloric zah!”
Bubbling light danced in the old hag’s rheumy, bloodshot eyes. Carefully, she lowered the basket to the cauldron’s surface.
“Erg damatha gloric zoon!”
The potion within foamed and rose; drenching basket, fruit, and tips of long, black fingernails. She lifted all free, frowning at what remained of her nails. Then, Aldetha saw the produce.
“Eeeergha!” she screeched, startling her talking crow out of sleep.
“Cerraw!” he shouted, flapping. “Whaaat?!”
“My spellll!” Aldetha lamented.
Her crow looked at the dripping basket.
She sniffed. “They’re ruined!”
“Well,” he considered, “Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to poison watermelon.”
Untitled by Chelsea Owens
Once upon a time, there were three little pigs. Like all pigs, they spent their days lounging in mud and eating table scraps from the bushy-bearded farmer.
One day, the pigs’ mother told them they’d have to go out into the world. “And whatever you do,” she warned, “Watch out for the big, bad wolf.”
The pigs agreed, though felt sore at being put out and away from the mud. Accordingly, each decided to build himself his own pit.
Before any could acquire straw, sticks, or brick; however, Farmer Wolf slaughtered them all and sold the meat at market.
Beware the Baker by Teresa Grabs
The butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker heard rumors of three little pigs that decided to live on their own instead of together like all good little pigs do. Sure enough, there were three houses, but a hungry wolf had also heard the rumors. The trio watched as he huffed and puffed, and tried to capture the little pigs, but he couldn’t. So, after the wolf left, the baker knocked on the brick house’s door and sold the little pigs three hot cross buns laced with arsenic. The butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker reported record profits.
Untitled by Chelsea Owens
Hansel and Gretel -both greedy tikes-
Set out to find more food.
They’d bread; yes, and water, but thought to try
To get cake and eat it, too.
“Look, Gretel,” said Hansel,
“I see a house, all sugar and gingerbread.”
His sister, a-rumbled, thought that sounded swell.
Said she, “Let’s go right ahead.”
But, alas for the pair
Who ne’er thought in sense,
A witch saw them circling
And licking her fence.
The morsels drew nearer; Witch smiled, she sighed;
She plotted and recipe’d.
But, Gretel, with roof piece and Hansel with pane, cried,
“Ugh! It’s all gluten free!”
Munchies and Moves by kate @ aroused
Staggering along in stilettos, more comfortable in pumps. Plain and practical was my style.
But I’d made an effort for a free banquet with hi-tech music and displays. Always hoping to be rescued by prince charming I was tarted up to turn some heads.
The banquet was something I’d never seen … a real vegetarian feast. Just as I’d piled my plate this nutter insisted on dancing.
“leave me alone, can’t you see I’m eating”
“ah please you’re the sexiest thing I’ve seen”
“leave it alone, maybe after I’ve eaten”
Turned out he was the DJ, loaded and keen.
Blind Punters by kate @ aroused
Three blind mice see how they stagger
off to the ranch bar to pick up a cow girl
Too many beers and some tasty tapas
turns them into real tipsy charmers
Their pick up lines a bit rusty
Their boots far too dusty
but determination their key
as they chat up the cows flea
So blind they can’t tell
too large or so small
When cheese slices arrive
they’re gnawing away
Cows and their fleas move on
Deciding on the group approach
blind mice circle their chosen prey
loud laughter and roaring erupts
as they mount the mechanical bull!
A Gentle Assist by JulesPaige
Mr. Pine was whittling away. The blood in his veins flowed as slowly as molasses in January.
He looked back in his mind’s eye at his life. It had been good, though while in his youth he had played the Jackass. Almost had himself and his father eaten by a terrible dogfish monster. Such are the lessons of real men. Now all he wanted to do, was once again met his maker.
Mr. Pine really just wanted to let his spirit go. Once again the Fairy with the Turquoise hair came to Gheppetto’s son. She gently released his soul.
Old Fools by JulesPaige
The new neighbor wanted to borrow my frying pan. Sure. I wasn’t doing much cooking these days. I wasn’t about to tell her that our social security checks barely covered the canned cat food we were eating.
When she returned the frying pan she was sweet. She said we could have three wishes.
I thought; yum, sausage. When my husband got home he wondered where my brains were and wished the sausage on my nose!
How could I been seen like this. We laughed and cried. Until Sam said; “Begone sausage!”
That night we treasured each other over dinner.
Untitled by Frank Hubeny
Little Red’s mother sent her off to Grandma’s house with a basket of goodies.
“Be careful crossing the bridge. The Trolls are mean. Give them these brown cookies.”
Little Red rolled her eyes.
“Avoid the Dragon in the cave. If she should come out, give her this green cookie.”
Those eyes rolled again, “I know. I know.”
Her mother didn’t think she knew. “Now, listen. When you get through the Enchanted Forest, past the Swamp of Forgetfulness where the Wicked Witch has that stupid gingerbread house, don’t call Billy, the “Big Bad Wolf”. His mother complained horribly last time.
Rumpelstiltskin Revisited by Lori Bonati
King Cake’s ultimatum: “Accept our buyout, or be reported for food tampering.”
Miller Foods’ counteroffer: “Take my daughter (Betty). Her carrot cake recipe’s priceless.”
“Bake cakes or die!” King Cake’s CEO screamed at kidnapped Betty, locked in his kitchen.
“If only I’d watched the Cooking Channel!” Betty wailed. She was no cook.
Suddenly, a handsome chef appeared. “I’m Rumpelstiltskin,” he said, handing the servant a grocery list.
“8 eggs, 5 carrots, 12 raisins, 16 walnuts? A code!” the servant deduced, telling police: “These numbers mean HELP!”
Betty, now rescued, opened a restaurant with Rumpelstiltskin and lived happily ever after.
Three Silly Billy Goats by Susan Sleggs
The billy goat triplets, ignoring warnings about the dangerous resident troll, jumped over each other and did body twists in the air while they crossed his bridge. Their noisy landings woke the troll, who peeked his ugly head out planning to eat the offenders. Instead he laughed at their antics. The troll discovered he liked laughter so he left strawberries for the silly triplets to ensure they would return daily. On the sixth day he popped a strawberry into his own mouth and choked on it. The billy goats found him dead and declared the bridge safe for all.
Little Blue Tidy Hood by Miriam Hurdle
Little Blue Tidy Hood hummed and pranced her way to grandmother’s cottage.
“What happened to you, Gingerbread Boy?”
“The Big Bad Wolf bit off my arm.”
“He caught you?”
“My mother will bake another arm for me. Where are you going?”
“Take porridge to my grandmother.”
“We must take care of the Wolf. Oh, the growling noise sounds so near.”
“Gruuu… got you. Humm… your legs are delicious. Now you, Hood.”
“Run fast, Gingerbread.”
“Little ones, I’m Witch of the North. Let me wire-stitch up the Wolf’s teeth. Gingerbread, your mother will bake the legs for you.”
Untitled by Jack Schuyler
There was once a shepherd boy who tended sheep near the forest. One morning, he shouted “Wolf!” at the top of his lungs. The villagers ran from their homes and to the forest’s edge, but there was no wolf—only the shepherd boy rolling in the grass laughing.
After lunch, he cried “Wolf!” and again made fools of them.
Then the Wolf came at dinnertime. The boy cried out, but no one responded. “All day you’ve made fools of the others,” said the wolf, grinning, “but now you are the fool.”
And now the boy cries wolf no more.
Insatiable by Sascha Darlington
Out of discipline and hope, I stir the pumpkin soup; its aroma overpowers the gumdrop roof stench.
Once my fairy godmother promised me a prince, and for one night he was mine.
Alone in the woods, in a candy-thatched house, I fight against the stirrings the witch put in me, of how to survive, how to stay young.
I hear them approach: chattering children. Ignoring me, they begin to devour my home.
“Children, stop at once.” The Prince appears as he did so many nights ago, handsome, charming, carefree. He barely acknowledges me.
Decided: I will eat him too.
Baby Bear and the Vegan Wolf by Sherri Matthews
‘Goldilocks,’ said Daddy Bear as he pulled on his slippers, ‘I’ve told you before, I want fish and chips for supper, not a bowl of porridge.’
‘Don’t be a grump, Boris,’ teased Mummy Bear as she set the table. ‘It’s Goldie’s special recipe, you’ll love it. Besides, Grandma and her new wolf man, Fred, are coming for dinner and they don’t eat fish now they’ve gone vegan.’
Later, Daddy Bear had to admit that Goldie’s porridge was delicious.
But Fred secretly thanked his higher power for Meats Anonymous, or he would have gobbled Baby Bear right up for afters.
Carrot Ranch Literary Community makes literary art accessible 99 words at a time through flash fiction challenges and a group of contests called the Rodeo.
Full Copyright of individual entries remains with the original author. Collection as a whole is the property of Carrot Ranch Literary Community. Sponsors help fund future events, free weekly challenges and free contests.
Entries are as submitted and not edited. Entries not meeting the specified word count or specific contest rules are not included at the discretion of each contest leader and judges.
Published by Carrot Ranch Literary Community led by Lead Buckaroo, Charli Mills.
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