There was once a Little Red Riding Hood who had a sick grandmother. Her mother instructed the girl, who wore a red cloak, to take a basket of cake and wine to her grandmother to aid in her recovery. Little Red Riding Hood did as she was told and started out on the main pathway.

Meanwhile, a wolf sat under a tree off the main pathway with a toothpick in his mouth. Little Red Riding Hood passed him by. He spit out the toothpick and ran to her side.

“Hello, there little one,” he said. “Where ya headed?”

“I’m going to my grandmother’s house,” said Little Red Riding Hood. “She’s very sick and I’m going to bring her some cake and wine.”

“Oh, I see, how far do you have to go?”

“Just beyond the mill down in the valley there, the first house behind it, you see it?”

“I can’t see it really,” said the wolf, “What’s the address?”

“2190 Mills View Lane,” said Little Red Riding Hood, who had never read this tale.

“You know,” said the wolf. “I think your grandmother would love some flowers. You should pick some in that field over there. I have to go.”

Little Red Riding Hood thanked the wolf, and walked to the field. She picked flower after flower. Then, she made her way to her grandmother’s house and rang the doorbell.

“Come in,” said a weak voice.

When Little Red Riding Hood walked in, she noticed her grandmother was lying in bed with a bed hat on, and the covers were up to her neck. She looked different, a little hairier than normal.

“Grandma, what big arms you have.”

“All the better to hug you with, my dear.”

“Grandma, what big ears you have.”

“All the better to hear you with.”

“Grandma, what big teeth you have.”

“All the better to eat you with.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Little Red Riding Hood opened the door, and there stood the wolf, who looked shocked.

“How in the hell did you beat me here?” he said.

Grandma saw the wolf and instantly pulled out a pistol from under the covers of her bed. She fired it but missed terribly. The wolf stepped into the house, knowing old ladies can’t shoot.

Little Red Riding Hood rushed to her grandmother on the bed, and they cowered in fright.

“Listen,” said the wolf. “If you cooperate, it will be better for you.”

“What do we have to do?” asked Little Red Riding Hood.

“Just be still,” said the wolf. “And it will be over quick; you won’t feel a thing.”

Meanwhile, a hunter nearby had just finished his last bottle of whiskey and feeling despair over being deprived of more alcohol, he picked up his gun and aimed it at the nearest object. He was about to shoot a tree when he heard a scream.

He ran in the direction where he heard it, and stumbled upon a cottage. The hunter went to the front door and opened it. There he saw a wolf eating the guts of an old lady and a little girl in the corner crying. The wolf turned his head like a scared dog caught by his master. The intestines in his mouth fell to the floor. The hunter took his rifle and shot the wolf in the head. Blood squirted all over poor Little Red Riding Hood.

The hunter approached the frightened little girl with the basket of cake and wine.

“It’s alright now,” said the hunter. “You’re safe.”

He walked her back home, and she ran into her mother’s arms crying. She thanked the hunter for saving her little girl from the wolf and offered him the wine from the basket. But she saw that the bottle was empty.