Once upon a time there was an enchanted kingdom with charming castles on the mountaintops, graceful unicorns running through the forests in panic from the huge werewolf packs that terrorized the countryside, and fair maidens in high towers waiting with bated breath as the vampires who had just sucked their handsome princes dry turned to them, ready for dessert.

Just your average enchanted kingdom.

In this nice little enchanted kingdom, there lived a beautiful little girl beloved by all who saw her, except the less beautiful girls. She had a charming smile, a charming personality and charming blood spatters all over her clothes, from the massacres and vampire/werewolf battles she often passed on her way to school. Most of the blood ended up on her pretty little riding hood, and since people in Fairyland suffer from acute lackofimaginationitis when it comes to names, everyone called her "Little Red Riding Blood."

One day her mother called Little Red Riding Blood to her and said to the girl, "Come, Little Red Riding Blood, here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine—"

"Oh, thanks," said Little Red Riding Blood and gobbled up the cake and drank the wine with one gulp, for Little Red Riding Blood was one hell of a party girl!

The mother, who was a very patient parent, took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then said, "Those were for your grandmother."

"Oops." Little Red Riding Blood gave a little belch and then smiled at her mother with the sweetest, most innocent smile in all of Fairyland. "Sorry."

"Hm. Well, here is another cake and another cake and another bottle of wine—"

"Thanks so much! I was feeling a bit peckish and—"

"—which also are for your grandmother."

"Oh."

"I would like you to take them to her, for she is ill and weak, it will do her good to see you."

Little Red rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I bet! She'll have so much fun criticizing my friends, my clothes, the way the walk, the way I talk and the parties I go to. I can hear her now: Little Red Riding Blood, that skirt is too short! Little Red Riding Blood, that hood is too red! Little Red Riding Blood, those wicked witches aren't the right company for you! Why don't you make friends with that nice Sleeping Beauty over at the Castle of Thorns? Well, here's a clue why: because she's freaking asleep! All the time! And she snores like a battalion of lumberjacks! No, thanks! I won't go near that weirdo or near grandma with a ten foot pole, Mom."

"Little Red!" The mother gazed at her daughter, rebuke in her eyes. "Have you no compassion for the old? Who but you should carry this cake and this wine to your dear, dear grandmother?"

Little Red gave her mother a look. "Can't she just order that stuff online?"

"Pssh! Not so loud, Little Red! This is Fairyland! We aren't supposed to have the internet!"

"God, mom! You're so old-fashioned."

"Besides, your grandmother is right about your so-called friends. Those wicked witches really are quite, um, well...wicked. I'm sure Sleeping Beauty would be really nice if you only took the time to get to know her..."

At this point, Little Red pulled out her crystal ball and started texting her friends. Her mother continued talking about the fine qualities of Sleeping Beauty, the dangers of the woods and other boring stuff for quite a while. Finally, she noticed what her daughter was doing, cut off her eulogy on comatose best friends and snatched the crystal ball away from Little Red.

"Hey! I was chatting with Circe and the Weird Sisters!"

"You can have it back as soon as you are back from grandma's."

"Blackmail, eh? Typical!"

"Let's call it 'encouragement.' Now get going, or you're grounded for a week! And I won't let you go to the Children of the Night concert next week."

Now that was a low blow. Grinding her teeth, Little Red capitulated.

"All right, all right! Keep your hat on. I'm going, I'm going."

The mother smiled the smile of an adult satisfied with their brilliant parenting skills. Clearing her throat, she switched off blackmail mode, and said, "Be safe on your journey, my dear child. Take the path through the Dark Forest of Doom, and mind that you follow the path, and don't get eaten by werewolves, or killed by vampires, or stepped on by giants, or cooked by witches, or kidnapped by fairies or caught in the net of a giant, flesh-eating spider, because then your poor grandmother will not get her basket of goodies."

"Um...and I'll be dead."

"Yes, I always try to look on the bright side, too."

And, with an encouraging pat on the shoulder, the mother shoved her daughter out into the forest, and slammed the door shut behind her.

So Little Red Riding Blood set out into the forest while in the distance birds twittered and the victims of monsters screamed in agony. She hadn't gone far into the forest when she met a sexy werewolf.

Now, Little Red Riding Blood knew perfectly well that werewolves were dangerous, but this one was really cute, so she didn't really give a flying fig. Batting her eyelashes, she sidled up to the werewolf.

"Hello there, gorgeous. What's your name?"

The werewolf smiled a ravenous smile. "Wolf. I'm heading over to the straw house beyond that hill to visit the three little pigs who live there. Would you like to join us for dinner?"

"Heck! I'd love to, but I'm Jewish."

The werewolf had never had particular opinions on religion, but looking at Little Red Riding Blood, he had to admit the Jews had a point. There definitely were more tasty things than pork. Very definitely. Hm...maybe he should postpone his dinner plans. The three little pigs probably wouldn't mind.

"Where are you going, then?" he inquired. "Maybe we can walk part of the way together."

Little Red pulled a face. "I have to go visit my grandma. I'm supposed to bring her this cake and wine."

The werewolf's brow furrowed. "But she could have just ordered that online."

"You know," Little Red Riding Blood told the wolf, sizing him up with an entirely new appreciation, "I think I really like you."

The werewolf licked his lips. "The feeling is mutual, I assure you."

Almost instinctively, he reached out to brush his fingers against her cheek—and the moment he touched her, a shock of electricity arced through him. Instantly he knew (in a very, very romantic, non-stalkerish way) that she was his mate and the love of his life and that he would never be able to live without her and that he would be her willing slave till the day he died and maybe even afterwards.

That's the average werewolf dating process.

"If only I didn't have to go to my grandmother's," Little Red sighted, completely unaware of the supernatural wedding bells that were ringing in the werewolf's ears. "There's an awesome party going on at the Evil Stepmother Club down behind the Enchanted Waterfall. Sometimes I just wish that old bat would drop dead!"

The werewolf gazed at her adoringly, his mouth hanging slightly open. "You do?" He smiled blissfully. His beloved wished for something. "Sorry, I have to go. I just remembered I have to go and do something...somewhere else. Something important."

And he dashed off into the woods.

"Well, that was rude," Little Red commented. Shrugging it off, she continued on her way. There were plenty more fish in the sea, or wolves in the woods, in this case.

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As soon as he was out of sight, the werewolf pulled his crystal ball out of his pocket and called PETFA.

"Hello! You've reached People for the Ethical Treatment of Fictional Animals. This is the Swan Maiden speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hello there. My name is Wolf. I'd like to go out to dinner, and I was wondering whether there are still any of those pesky woodcutters left in that area. You know how they always interrupt dinner and try to cut open your belly and—"

"Oh, I quite understand! We've had three cases this week already where a lion or a beast was just peacefully eating some humans, and then one of these woodcutters came along and attacked them for some reason."

"Exactly! That's exactly my problem."

"Don't worry. We're here to help. Well, let's see...You're in the Dark Forest of Doom?"

"That's correct."

"Well, you can go ahead and enjoy your dinner, then. All the woodcutters in that part of Fairyland have been put out of business by Pinocchio, so there's nothing to worry about."

"Oh, thank you so much, Swan! That's such a relief."

"You're welcome. We at PETFA are always happy to help animals in need. Good bye, and bon appétit."

The werewolf hung up and started towards the grandmother's house. He reached it only minutes later, and because he was a polite werewolf, he knocked on the door.

"Who's there?" called the old woman from inside.

"It's me, your granddaughter, Little Red Riding Blood," the wolf called out, imitating his beloved's voice.

"Really? Because you don't sound like Little Red Riding Blood. You sound like a werewolf who's been breathing helium."

Oh, to hell with politeness!

Kicking in the door, the werewolf fell upon the grandmother and ate her up, except for a little bit, which he kept in case he got peckish later. She turned out to be surprisingly tasty. He might be able to turn roast grandmother into a real masterpiece of cuisine. Maybe, if in future he added a bit of pepper to the recipe...

The wolf was interrupted in his culinary plans by the sound of feet approaching outside. Quickly, he slipped into the bed and put the grandmother's bobcap on, because he had very bad fashion sense. "Who's there?"

"The postman, Miss."

Oh. The postman? Well...if Little Red was still taking a little time, there was no reason not to make use of the time, right?

"Come in," the wolf called, slipping out of bed and reaching for the pepper pot.

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While the postman was being roasted, Little Red Riding Blood was walking through the Dark Forest of Doom, whistling a merry tune. She was in a much better mood than before: after parting with the werewolf, she'd met a coven of her teenage witch friends, and they'd chatted about their parents' latest antics, the latest fashion from the capital, and their crushes. Little Red didn't have a boyfriend, but it had been great fun to join in with her friends and discuss the latest grinding and crunching methods. Let's just say that teenage wicked witches take the term "crush" rather literally.

When she reached her grandmother's house, it was already very late and the sun was sinking beyond the horizon, making the Dark Forest of Doom not exactly brighter. The trees cast long shadows across the path, and the house was only a dark silhouette ahead. Little Red Riding Blood already thought she might have to wake up her grandmother, when she caught the smell drifting from inside the house. Instantly, her mood shot up another few notches.

"Barbeque? Has the old bat finally learned how to use a grill?" Quickening her steps, Little Red knocked on the door. All that walking and talking with her friends had left her rather hungry. "Hello, grandmother?"

"Who's there?"

Little Red Riding Blood, hearing the rough, deep voice of the wolf, was at first afraid.

She's already eaten all the ribs herself! And now she has a sore throat from the barbeque sauce, that greedy old bat!

But then she saw that smoke was still coming from the chimney of the little house—so the barbeque still had to be going on. Maybe there were still a few ribs left.

"It's your granddaughter, Little Red Riding Blood, who has brought half a cake and half a bottle of wine for you."

It had been a really long walk, after all, and Little Red was a growing girl.

"Come in, my dear child."

Now Little Red was getting really worried. Dear child? Her grandmother was being nice to her? She really had to be seriously sick! Quickly, Little Red opened the door and stepped inside. Through the shadows, she could just make out a dark shape under the covers in her grandmother's bed.

"Grandma, are you there?"

"Yes, my dear child. Come, you must be exhausted from your long walk. Why don't you put away your basket aside and have a few grilled ribs?"

Little Red Riding Blood was really starting to get worried for her grandma. Such horrendous niceness simply had to be the effect of some illness. There was no way the old bat could be that friendly by natural causes.

Still...ribs were ribs, right?

"Hmm...delicious, grandma!"

"Thank you, child."

"And the barbecue sauce—simply fantastic!"

"I'm glad you like it."

"But there's something swimming in it. A bit of paper? No, a...postage stamp?"

"Ah, you know how it is when you cook. You always overlook the little details."

"And here...is that a pinky finger?"

"Like I said, those pesky little details..."

Little Red Riding Blood was shocked. Absolutely horrified. How could her grandmother do this? How could she conceal from her the fact that she was actually a pretty cool grandma? Little Red would have loved to have learned that recipe from her grandmother. Ribs with postage stamps and pinky fingers? Now that was a recipe that even her wickedly witchy friends would be impressed by! And her grandmother had kept it secret all these years? Weren't grandparents supposed to share such things with their beloved grandchildren? Little Red felt a nostalgic pang in her heart for all the evenings they could have spent dancing naked around a bonfire in the woods chanting satanic songs and flying around on broomsticks. She and her grandmother could have had such a wonderful relationship.

It was high time for some family bonding time!

Her grandmother seemed to feel the same, for just then she waved at Little Red Riding Blood and said, "Come, child! Take off all your clothes and get into bed with me."

Um...

Well, that was not exactly the kind of family bonding Little Red had had in mind. But what the heck! This was a fairy tale, after all, so weird stuff happened all the time for no particular reason. Slipping out of her dress, Little Red Riding Blood slid into bed beside her grandmother, who for some reason smelled quite musky. She reached out to touch her grandmother's hand, but her fingers found something else instead.

"Oh Grandmother! What big ears you have!"

"All the better to hear you with, my dear."

Little Red's fingers wandered on in the darkness.

"Grandmother, what eyes you have!"

"All the better to see with, my dear."

"Grandmother, what long legs you have!"

"All the better to lift beside trees and piss on them, my dear."

"Um...really?"

"Yes. It's really handy. You don't piss on your own paws so often."

"Err...I'll take your word for it."

A frown forming on her forehead, Little Red's curious hands wandered on.

"Grandmother, what strong arms you have!"

"All the better to hold you with, my dear."

"Grandmother, what big abs you have!"

"All the better to—well, I don't really know what they're for, but they work wonders with the ladies."

"Grandmother, what a big—oooh...!"

"Yep, I've got that, too."

Little Red lay there for a moment. Then she very slowly and cautiously removed her hand from where it had been placed.

"You're not really my grandmother, are you?"

"Not really, no."

"I thought as much. And what's this?"

"What is what?" the wolf asked, for he felt nothing.

"That." The girl felt around in the darkness. "Feels long and sharp...like teeth. Sharp teeth."

"That would be me," said a third voice out of the darkness. A soft voice, deep dark and velvet as the night. "Or to be more precise, my fangs."

The wolf yelped and struck out, accidentally sending a flower vase on the bedside table flying.

"Now, now, there's really no need for that," said the velvety voice. "Let's behave like civilized people, shall we?"

"Civilized people?" the wolf growled. "You're in my bed!"

"Which is yours only because you grilled and ate its former owner. That's rather a case of the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn't you say?"

Now, nobody should get the wrong idea at this point about the moral character of Little Red Riding Blood's dear departed grandmother. The gentleman who had been lying in wait in her bed was not some sort of scandalous paramour. No, he was only a vampire who regularly came to visit her to suck her blood, which had in fact been the reason why she had been feeling a bit poorly of late. This evening, the fanged gentleman had fluttered up to the window in the form of a bat to get his weekly dose of O negative as usual, when, through the window, he had seen a lady undressing. At eight-hundred and fifty-one, his eyesight wasn't quite what it had been, but he had quickly decided that his blood-donor's looks had significantly improved overnight. In fact, he liked what he saw so much he had fallen in love with Little Red Riding Blood on the spot and decided to make her his immortal bride.

A plan that would have worked just fine if not for the dog in her bed.

"Filthy bloodsucker! She's mine! Mine!" The werewolf threw a punch at the vampire. The vampire ducked, dematerialized, and reappeared behind the werewolf, wrapping his arms around him in a stranglehold. Howling, the werewolf twisted around and tried to bite the vampire's nose off.

Meanwhile, Little Red Riding Blood reclined at the opposite side of the bed at a safe distance. She had switched on the bedside lamp and was watching the spectacle with considerable interest. Neither the vampire nor the werewolf were fully dressed, and there was lots to arouse a growing girl's interest. Slipping out of bed, Little Red fetched a bowl of popcorn from the larder and settled down in her grandmother's arm chair, watching the spectacle in front of her.

"I shall tear your head off and lay it as a trophy of my victory at my beloved's feet!"

"Ha! I will shred your insides until she can use them as confetti at our wedding!"

Hm...which of them was hotter?

Sometimes life presented one with such difficult questions.

But there's always a solution, right?

Little Red Riding Blood clapped her hands. "All right, listen up, boys!"

The vampire and the werewolf froze, the former's hands still wrapped round the latter's throat, while the growling beast had just been about to shove a broken-off bedpost through the fanged gentleman's heart. Trying to seem as innocent as they could manage—which wasn't much—they looked over at Little Red.

"Yes, my soulmate?"

"What do you wish, My Lady?"

"You're going to stop this nonsense at once!" Little Red ordered.

That seemed to please neither of them.

"But I have to kill this stinking bloodsucker for you!"

"And I have to rip out this dog's heart so I can serve it up to you on a silver platter!"

"And I have to eviscerate this fang boy here and strangle him with his own intestines!"

"Eviscerate and strangle...My dear sir, that's quite inventive! I'll have to remember that."

"Thanks. Your idea isn't bad either. Putting my heart on a silver platter—that's one big piece of nasty!"

"Why, thank you, Sir! I really appreciate that, and—"

"Hey, hey!" Little Red rapped her knuckles on the bedside table. "When the two of you are finished exchanging murder methods, could we get back to the subject at hand here?"

"Oh. Yes, of course."

"Certainly, My Lady."

"You two both want to marry me?"

"You are my soulmate. It is our destiny."

"I shall not rest until you are my immortal bride."

"So you're in madly and eternally in love with me?"

"Yeah!"

"I most assuredly am, My Lady. If you wish, I can have my personal physician show you evidence of my psychotic stalker tendencies, and my official immortality certificate."

Little Red cocked her head. "And you would do anything for me?"

"You got that right."

"I would walk through oceans of garlic for you, my beloved."

"Okay. Then shut up and let me think for a bit, will you?"

"No problem."

"Certainly. May we resume our attempts at mutual homicide in the interim?"

"Absolutely not! You can put on some pants and get out of my grandma's bed, you perverts! And you, little doggy, can drop that bedpost! There won't be any staking here while I'm around!"

"But—"

"Now!"

"All right, all right..."

"I'm going outside to think a little. And if I find the two of you at each other's throats when I come back in, I'm going to be really cross with you, understood?"

Little Red didn't need a lot of time to consider her next step. Sure, this wasn't how fairy tales normally went, and at first she hadn't been sure what to do next. But Little Red was a smart girl, and by the time she stepped back into the cottage, she had the perfect plan ready and a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Listen up, you two! You love me?"

"Yes! You're mine! My soulmate, my destiny!"

"I certainly do. You are my immortal bride, my everything!"

"Are you willing to prove it?"

The vampire and werewolf glanced at each other wearily—then quickly nodded.

"Definitely!"

"Anything for you, my queen of the night!"

"That's great to know." Little Red's grin widened. "Here's what we're going to do..."

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A quarter of an hour later, the scene in the clearing where the little cottage stood had significantly changed. Where before there had been an empty lawn with a few daisies scattered here and there, there now stood two rows of stands. In the middle rose a huge cage made out of garlic-coated silver. People milled around everywhere, buying popcorn, hot dogs, hot wolves and ice cream. At the fence, where the little garden gate offered entrance onto the property, a huge sign had been put up, proclaiming:

TODAY

VAMPIRE vs WEREWOLF DEATHMATCH

Blood, Brutality and Gore guaranteed!

Admittance: $4.99

$1.99 for children under 5.

Little Red Riding Blood stood at the garden gate, smiling her beautiful smile, selling tickets and calculating how much money she was going to get out of this—to say nothing of the added benefit of seeing a shirtless vampire and werewolf go at each other in a cage fight. Some things were truly more important than money.

Not many, though.

"That will be $4.99, Sir."

"Here you go."

"And you, too, ma'am. $4.99."

"And for my little girl?"

"$1.99. Oh, such a sweet little girl! What's her name?"

"Monstrousia."

"What a beautiful name! Here you go, ma'am, your tickets."

"Thank you."

"Red! Red, over here!"

Little Red looked up from counting money to see three horrendous, monstrous figures stalking towards her.

"Girls! You came!" Grinning from ear to ear, she threw her arms around the first of the Weird Sisters. The others joined in, and soon they were entangled in a devilish group hug. "Did you bring a magic music box, like I asked you to?"

"Better." The oldest of the sisters cackled. She was already quite good at professional cackling. "Much better."

Little Red followed her outstretched hand to a see a stage being set up at the opposite end of the clearing. A group of young werewolves, vampires and ghouls were climbing up. It took Little Red a moment to recognize them.

"No way. No freaking way, you got them?"

"Yep."

"How? How did you pull this off? I've wanted to get their autograph forever!"

"Dad cashed in a favor with Dracula."

"Wow! Wow, that's so amazing! I can't believe the Children of the Night will be playing at my party!"

The sound of an electric organ, accompanied by werewolf howls and the screams of tortured souls, rose over the crowd. Several girls in the crowd sighed, their eyes turning dreamy.

"Aah... listen to them, the Children of the Night. What music they make!"

More people from all across the forest started streaming into the little clearing. By the time the Children of the Night had finished their act and it was time for the main event, the stands were packed with evil stepmothers, ghouls, dark wizards, wicked witches, ogres, giants and one fairy who looked as if she wished she'd gone to the opera instead.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and undefinable creatures!" Climbing onto the stage, Little Red raised her hands. "We're here today to witness a match the like of which Fairyland hasn't seen in a hundred years!" She pointed to the cage where, just at that moment, the werewolf was climbing inside, and the cage door slammed shut behind him. "On the left, we have Wolf, the Beast of Nightmares!"

Mist floated through the bars of the cage and coalesced into the form of the vampire on the other side of the ring.

"And on the right, we have...sorry, what's your name?"

"Vlad."

"Vlad the what?"

"Vampire."

"Yeah, I think we guessed that already, buddy. Okay. These two contestants shall fight—and not in just any old fight, oh no! This will be a fight to the death!"

The crowd cheered.

"The winner will have my hand in marriage! And I..." Grinning, Little Red took her seat at the top of the stands. "I will have a hell of a lot of fun watching you two beat the shit out of each other shirtless."

The crowd cheered again. Or at least the nine tenths of it that were composed entirely of ladies.

"May the battle begin!"

The contestants charged. In mid-charge, the werewolf started to transform, and when the two collided, it was a dark shadow with glowing red eyes crashing into a gigantic furry beast with a collar that said "Fido. If found, please return Mrs. Wolfia Wolfson, Werewolf Den 10, 73745, The Dark Forest of Doom."

Now that was motherly love.

What was going on inside the cage, on the other hand, was pure, unadulterated homicidal rage. The werewolf buried its fangs in the vampire's arms. In return, the vampire ripped one of the floorboards out of the podium and slammed the splintered piece of wood against his rival's head.

"Woah!" The Weird Sisters whooped and clapped. "That was a good one."

Howling, the werewolf lashed out, raking his claws across the vampire's back, and in doing so, accidentally tearing off his cape, revealing much more of his impressive physique.

"Now that was a good one." Grinning, Little Red Riding Blood reached for a bag of popcorn and a pair of binoculars. "Now the show can really get started."

To the ear-torturing sound of the Children of the Night, the two contestants battled on. The werewolf ripped the vampire's head off nearly half a dozen times, but the damn thing always reattached itself after bouncing a bit through the cage, complaining loudly to its body. In retribution, the vampire pelted the werewolf with silver knives until the latter looked like the world's most expensive shish kebab, but never managed to hit the heart. Finally, after hours and hours of fighting, both collapsed on the floor, bleeding from so many wounds not even Wicked Witch of Agnesi would have been able to count them all.

Understandably, the crowd wasn't pleased. Boos rose up from the stands, and the panting contestants were pelted with popcorn.

"We want a winner! We want a winner!"

Jumping up from her seat, Little Red Riding Blood started climbing up the side of the cage until she stood on top of it, balancing on the metal bars. She waved her hands at the crowd, and slowly it began to quiet.

"I can understand your frustration, my friends!" she called out, while below her, the vampire and werewolf groaned and bled a little more. "After all, this isn't just a lousy little fight—this is about something important. This is a battle for love!"

The audience cheered.

"I must marry someone, right? After all, a fairy tale needs a happy ending."

Another cheer from the crowd, along with shouts of "Yes, yes! A happy ending!"

Little Red considered for a moment—then her face brightened. "I know! I've got the perfect solution. I know who I'm going to marry!"

Fuelled by love alone, the vampire and the werewolf raised their heads, gazing up at the object of their passion. Whom would she chose? Whom?

Little Red gave a bright smile. "I'll simply marry both of them!"

Another cheer from the crowd.

But from inside the cage...

"What did you say?"

"Pardon, my immortal bride, did I hear you correctly?"

"Yep, you did." Grinning, Little Red settled down on the cage, letting her legs dangle through the bars. "I mean, you're hot, Wolf, don't get me wrong, but I don't really fancy living the rest of my life in a den, and I bet Vlad here has a nice castle somewhere with soft beds and the latest magic mirrors and crystal balls, right?"

The vampire beamed, and was just about to open his mouth when she continued. "And, Vlad, you're hot and rich and everything—but you seem like kind of a loner. It would be nice to have a werewolf pack at my beck and call. If I move out of my mother's place, I'll have to think about a career, and I think I'd like to be an evil queen someday. An evil queen needs minions. Especially an evil vampire-werewolf queen with ambitions of grandeur."

The two contestants looked at each other—then Vlad cleared his throat. "Jewel of my heart, I hesitate to criticize your utter perfection, however, it seems to me that this plan—"

"—is utter bollocks!" Wolf finished.

"You might have put it more diplomatically, dog!"

"Up yours, fang boy!"

"Oh, well, if that's how you feel..." Sliding off the cage, Little Red dropped to the ground and adjusted her Riding Hood. The audience watched, spellbound. "That's okay, I guess."

Turning, she started towards her grandmother's cottage.

"Hey!" The werewolf raised himself up from the battered wooden floor as far as his exhausted body would allow. "What about us?"

Little Red glanced back, batting her eyelashes. "Oh, I'm sure you clever boys will find some way to get out of that garlic-impregnated titanium-core super-safe dwarf-made silver cage on your own. Unless of course you'd like to reconsider my offer...?"

And, whistling, she walked away.

Behind her, the audience started placing bets on how long it would take to get to the happy ending.

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Exactly five minutes and seven seconds later, the vampire and the werewolf announced that they would marry Little Red Riding Blood, for they loved her very much, and they would be damned if they would stay another minute in the same cage with that mongrel/fang boy! And there was great rejoicing everywhere, except from the people who had bet on more than six minutes.

"Now, let's get down to business." Little Red rubbed her hands. "I need a priest! Is there a priest here?"

One of the Weird Sisters jumped up, waving her hand in the air. "Here! Here! Oh, please, please, please let me!"

When everybody turned to stare at her, she shrugged. "What? The Church of Satan is a recognized religious body in seven enchanted kingdoms."

The crowd was already arrayed around a kind of aisle. All Little Red had to do was get a helpful giant to kick the wrestling cage out the way. Soon, to the music of Chopin's funeral march, she was advancing down the aisle in a dress as red as blood, the werewolf on her one side, the vampire on the other. And when the youngest of the Weird Sisters spoke the time-honored words "We are gathered here together in the sight of Lucifer, Lord of the Pit..." she felt moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes.

Oh, if only her grandmother were alive to see this day. Little Red would have loved to see the horrified expression on the old bat's face.

"Do you, Little Red Riding Blood, take this werewolf and this vampire to be your unlawfully wedded husbands, to love and have wild parties with, in good times and in times of anemia, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself not quite solely unto them because that would be so dreadfully boring?"

"I do."

"And do you, Vlad and Wolf, take this little hellion as your unlawfully wedded wife, to bite and to suck on, in good times and in bad, for richer and for poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her because otherwise I and her other friends are gonna cut your balls off?"

"We do."

"You may kiss the bride! Oh, and you, too."

Briefly, the wrestling match resumed as the two bridegrooms fought for the honor of who was going to get to kiss the bride first. After a few arms had been ripped off and grown back, they settled on each kissing one cheek. One of the Weird Sisters turned a pumpkin from grandma's pumpkin patch into a beautiful carriage, and several of the spectators into horses, and the happy love triangle set off towards the vampire's castle, where Little Red began a reign of terrific terror unrivalled by any evil queen in Fairyland. And they were undead happily ever after.

And the moral of the story is: Two is always better than one.

Or, another moral is: Vampires and Werewolves are hot!

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My dear Lords, Ladies and blood-sucking fiends of the night,

How did you enjoy my retelling of "Little Red Riding Hood"? ;-)

This story was #2 on the list of stories you voted on when my first batch of fairy tales ended, and so I simply had to put it into the second collection. There was only one story who got more votes - Beauty and the Beast. The main reason why I haven't written that one yet is because some there are different versions, some of which I've only found in French so far, and also there's the new Disney movie I haven't gotten my hands on yet. But have no fear,  at some point in the future I will be working on something really beastly! :)

Now, for all of you who might be interested in discovering a little bit more about the background behind "Little Red Riding Blood":

My tale "Little Red Riding Blood" is based, mostly, on three main stories: The first (and the one you most likely know) is a 19th century fairy tale called "Little Red Riding Hood" written by Wilhelm & Jacob Grimm and included in their famous collection of Children & Household Tales. The story goes a little bit like this: Little Red ventures into the woods to visit her dear old grandmother, but grandma has already been gobbled up by the big bad wolf, who then also devours Little Red. Then the huntsman/woodcutter arrives, kills off the poor little wolf and rescues the (somehow absolutely unharmed) Little Red from its stomach. However, one thing you probably don't yet know is that the Brother Grimm's version had to undergo quite a bit of whitewashing before it was semi-suitable for children. The entire happy ending in the Grimms' story was attached by the brothers them to an earlier edition of the story written dozens of years earlier by a the French fairy-tale-author Charles Perrault.

Perrault's story concludes with Little Red & her Grandmother being devoured and digested by the wolf, most likely as a lesson for little girls (and I assume also their grandmas) not to converse with strangers in the forest. Yet even Perrault's version isn't the oldest and darkest version of this story. That honor definitely belongs to the original edition of Little Red Riding Hood, an old Italian folk story commonly known in English by the name of The False Grandmother, which is actually so old that its original writer's name has been lost to time.

[WARNING: Blood and Gore alert!]

In the oldest version of the story, the big bad wolf devours most of the poor grandmother, but leaves a little bit of her as a snack for later. After that, when Little Red Riding Hood arrives at grandma's hut, he invites her to join him at the dinner table (which she actually does, not even noticing that the dinner consists of roasted grandmother) and then the wolf persuades her to take of every stitch of clothing and climb into bed with him (which she also does, regardless of the fact that, at this point in the story, she still believes that it's her grandma in the bed). However, what one must also take into consideration, is the fact that in the original tale, Little Red is significantly more resourceful than her later versions in the two newer editions: by telling the big bad wolf she needs to take a leak, she's able to slip out of bed and escape his evil clutches before he gets a chance to devour her.

Sex, murder and cannibalism—now that's just the kind of tale any parent should read to their children as a bedtime story, right?

Yours Truly

Sir Rob (who has just probably proven he's unfit to ever have kids ;-)