Goldilocks

Last Saturday, I was walking in the woods, when I heard a noise from behind me.

'Psst.'

I ignored it and turned to carry on.

'Psst, hey you.'

I turned and walked back to the tree that I thought was talking to me.

A bear stepped out from behind the tree, looking around nervously. 'Hey mate,' he said. 'Have you seen the woodman?'

'You're a bear,' I said.

'Well spotted.'

'But not only do bears not talk,' I replied. 'They are no longer native to this country.'

'Tough shit mate,' the bear said, still looking around nervously. 'You're in a fairy tale now. A different bleeding reality, innit?'

'Oh shit, not another fairy tale. The doctor told me that if I laid off smoking that stuff it wouldn't happen again.'

'It's nothing to do with what you've been smoking, mate,' the bear said with an element of disgust. 'Some dozy sod's been arsing around with the whole space/time continuum whatsit. Everything's gone to buggery.' The bear sat down on a convenient tree stump. 'Take last week; they only had me - me - up the castle giving that Sleeping Beauty a kiss. Do I look like a sodding prince?'

'Well....' I said carefully, noticing the size of his claws.

'Anyway, like I said. Have you seen the woodman?'

'What do you mean the one that used to leap out from behind the trees and show the girls his chopper?'

'Naw,' the bear said. 'I can see you haven't been here for quite a while. The fairy godmother soon put a stop to that - it was ruining the whole reputation of fairy tale land that was - she banished him from the magical forest. Last I heard he'd gone into politics.' The bear spat in disgust.

'No, I haven't seen the woodman. Why do you want to know?' 'He's after us - me and my mates.'

'Why?'

'You've heard of Goldilocks.'

'Who hasn't,' I spluttered. 'Is she still...?'

'What, the forest bike?' The bear said.

'Well, I wouldn't put it like that,' I said. 'Anyway, I never believed those stories about her. The only time I went out with her I never even found out if she was a natural Goldie.'

'Oh, she is, she most definitely is.' The bear nodded his head wistfully.

'Anyway, what's the problem?' I said. 'The Goldilocks and the three bears story I head didn't sound too serious - as far as I recall everyone lived happily ever after.'

'Weeell....' The bear shifted uncomfortably on his stump and scratched. 'I think I might have a hair up my arse,' he said.

I took a couple of steps back. 'Yes?'

'Well, you know the Daddy Bear, Mommy Bear and Baby Bear bit?'

'Yes.'

'Our agent's idea. She thought three male bears sharing a cottage deep in the woods, flowers around the doorway, rustic antique furniture and so on.... "Sends entirely the wrong signals," she said. We could see her point, fairy tales have been getting a declining market share ever since Watch with Mother, and since those bleeding Teletubbies stitched everything up... Well, a bear's got to eat, and we've all got families back home, y'know?'

I nodded. 'Go on....'

'Well, a bear gets lonely too, y'know... far from home. We do a bit of moonlighting on the side... black market honey. Well, these days every bit helps....' He sighed. 'Anyway, there we are all three of us hanging around one morning, reading the papers, talking about who we think'll get the England manager’s job. Y'know... just three bears with a bit of spare time on our paws....' He shifted on his stump again. 'Do bear's get piles, do you know?'

I shook my head. 'I have no idea.'

'My arse is giving me some gyp this morning,' he said. 'I think it is all this shitting in the woods.' He shifted himself again. 'Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. She came to the door, y'know - you could see she was up for it, peasant blouse unfastened right down to her... leaning on the doorjamb, you get the picture?' He shrugged. 'I mean we are normal bears, y'know... with a bear's needs... a long way from home and our families... and she was more than willing, y'know?'

'Yes.' I nodded. I knew what Goldilocks could be like when she was in the mood. Trouble was she was only in the mood on days with a 'y' in them and she could be hotter than the jam in a microwaved doughnut.

The bear could see from the look in my eyes and the submarine surfacing in my trousers that I knew what he was talking about. 'Well, you know the bit in the story about the broken furniture?'

'Y...es.'

'Well, you know one girl and three bears, a chair is not going to last long is it?'

'No.'

'Or a bed come to that.'

'No.' I hesitated. 'The porridge?'

'I don't have to draw a picture, do I?' The bear said. 'Suffice to say it wasn't too hot for her to swallow, if you see what I mean?'

'Yes, right.'

The bear sighed. 'So there you are then.'

'But, what does this have to do with the woodman? He's not her father is he?'

'No.'

'He's not he lover, brother husband, fiancé or anything either?'

'Oh no... let's just say he swings his chopper the other way, shall we?' The bear put his paw on his hip and fluttered his eyelids. 'Know what I mean?'

'Oh, right.'

The bear stood up, brushing down his fur. He looked over my shoulder. 'Oh, fuck! It's him. I'm off, see you.' The bear dropped down to all fours and began to run.

'But why is he after you?' I called after him.

'It was his bloody cottage and we wrecked it!' The bear called back over his shoulder. 'He's after us to pay for all the bloody damage.'

And with that, the bear was gone, with the woodman chasing after him, crashing through the thick trees. A moment later I saw the pope emerge from the trees, pulling his robes back down as he stepped back on to the path that led from the woods.

I took the other way out.

(Another one of my earliest – see here, and here for example)