Hansel, The Fat Little Jerk & Gretel, The Tinfoil Maniac

Once upon a time, I (Judy Hagardy) was minding my own business in my vacation home which I had purposely built from candy –

The roof from sheets of gingerbread for a fragrant home, and windows of clear sugar to maintain a view of the breathtaking forestry surrounding me –

When all of a sudden I heard two little brats gnawing at my home!

“Who’s eating my home?” I inquired.

“The wind, the wind” they replied as they continued to eat.

Can you believe that?  Who would believe that the wind was EATING their house?  As I pondered how one would begin to believe this line or reasoning, the little jerks ate away my home.  I decided that it was up to me to teach these brats a lesson; their parents obviously hadn’t done a very good job.  So, lying through my teeth I said,

“Oh sweeties, please come in out of this wilderness and let me take care of you.”  “Why are you wandering alone through these super duper dangerous woods?

“Our Mom is crazy and our Dad doesn’t have the spine to stand up to her so he’s been bringing us out into the woods hoping that we wouldn’t be able to find our way home.  This is like the third time they’ve tried to pull this crap on us. I’m Hansel by the way, and this is my sister Gretel.”

It was at this point that I began to feel a bit of empathy for these poor kids.  Abandoned and left for dead.  I decided I was going to do a good thing and nourish them before finding them a new home.

Over the next few days I had cleaned my home, cooked them food, made them beds, and treated them as if they were royalty; all without receiving so much as a ‘thank you.’   They ate and slept and slept and ate.  Hansel ate so much that he gained, like, 30 pounds in a week.  The boy got super fat.  We’re talking biggie smalls but three feet tall.

The girl ate much less, and she grew suspicious of me.  She couldn’t believe that some stranger would have her and her brother’s best interests in mind, probably because her own parents didn’t.  On the second day she had begun wearing a hat she had fashioned from some tinfoil she found under my sink.  She began crafting fables, and lying to the boy about how I ate children, and how I was fattening him up on purpose so that he would taste better.

Yea. Like I’m making this kid eat 20,000 calories worth of food every day.  The kid is eating his meals with a shovel but it’s my fault he’s getting fat?  Please.

Anyway, unbeknownst to me, this little brat Gretel was plotting to kill me by throwing me into my own oven (what a way to show gratitude – I see why their parents were trying to leave them in the forest).  One day, I overheard the little girl plotting with her garbage truck of a brother, and I knew I had to act quickly.

Using some left over supplies from my home build, I created an exact replica of myself.  Same height, same weight, and same general appearance.  Working diligently while the fatty and little miss tinfoil slept in the beds I had made for them.

On the morning of the 8th day of their stay, I set my double in front of my raging oven, and walked out the back door.  I then followed the trail that they had left back to their parent’s house and, ahem, disposed, ahem, of their terrible mother (no she didn’t die, I just sent her into a deep, deep, deep, deep, sleep).  The father, thinking his wife to be dead, grew depressed and wept as the sky on a gloomy spring day.  I on the other hand wasted no time and took the soonest flight I could catch back to my home in New York.

The little fatty and his evil sister, thinking that they had killed me via fire, went back to their parent’s home to find their crazy mom was gone and their dad, crushed by the grief of losing his partner, was ecstatic to see them.   As far as I know, they lived happily ever after.  As far as they know, I’m dead, and they are totally fine and continue living their lives thinking that they killed a human being.


The End.


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