10
Dec
10

Rewritten Aesop’s Fables… By Me

The Fox and The Crow

Walking through an unfamiliar town, Gerald Fox sees the beautiful and alluring Pheobe Crowe window shopping by herself, moving gracefully from shop window to shop window. Her hand, delicately curled beneath her chin, held and exquisite and obviously expensive sapphire ring.

“I just have to have that ring for my collection.” thought Gerald as he moved casually toward the girl. Gerald had always had a way with women. He approached the graceful Miss Crowe and crooned, “What a beautiful day it is. The perfect day for such a perfect specimen of beauty.”

Phoebe blushed and brought her ringed hand up to her face, hiding behind it coquettishly. “A woman as graceful as you, with such shiny, obsidian hair and bewitching onyx eyes, surely must waltz like a princess. Dance with me now, so my life can be fulfilled.”

Phoebe didn’t have to think twice about dancing with this handsome, fire haired stranger. She moved within his arms, putting her hand into his and they danced, without any music nor with she feeling any embarrassment, in the middle of the square. She was so taken by his compliments that she didn’t even notice when he cunningly slipped the sapphire from her dainty finger. When the dance ended, he plied her with compliments about her dancing ability and the smallness of her young body within his muscular frame. He talked to her as if she were his queen and he, her loyal servant. He asked Phoebe if he could call on her later. She quickly agreed and gave him directions to her home and they parted. She was so smitten, that she didn’t even notice the lightness of her now barren hand.

Gerald bought an expensive notecard from one of the shops that Miss Crowe had been gazing in, wrote a message and hired a young man to deliver the note to the lovely Miss Crow at the time they agreed to meet. Then, as quickly and quietly as he appeared, he left town.

At the appointed time, there was a knock at the door and Miss Crowe answered the door herself. When she opened it, she was distressed to find, instead of her handsome caller was one of the local towns boys who had been vying for her attention. He handed her an envelope and said, “Good day, miss.” before turing and heading back to town. She opened the envelope and took out a note that read, “Miss Crowe, in exchange for such an enchanting gift, I dispense to you a piece of very important advice that I’d advise to you remember all your life. Do not trust flatterers. They usually have ulterior motives.” It is at this moment that she notices how light her hand has become and she dropped to the floor and wept.

The Dog and The Wolf (I think this one was my favorite)

John Cocker was leaving the feed store when he heard a ruckus coming from behind the bakery. When he went to see what all the commotion was about, he came face to face with his cousin, Peter Wilde. The sight of this sickeningly thin, dirty and ungodly smelly boy was disturbing, but not shocking. Though he hadn’t seen Peter in years, he wasn’t surprised to see Peter elbow deep and rooting around in the bakery’s trash looking for a morsel of food.

Well, Peter. You look… thin.” John said eyeing his filthy cousin. “I can’t say I’m shocked, though. We have always told you that the life of a carefree drifter would be the death of you. Why can’t you get a real job like the rest of us?”

Pete pulled his arms from the garbage with embarrassment, wiped his hands on his already repugnant trousers and looked sadly at John.

“I would, except I can’t find anyone who will hire an emaciated, dirty boy with no one to vouch for me.”

“Well, you’re in luck, cousin,” John exclaims. “because my master is looking for another stable hand. I can vouch for you and you can work there and room with me. You’ll be fed regularly, you’ll be able to wash regularly,” he continued sniffing with disgust “and you will have a safe place to sleep each night.”

The two boys start off toward the farm, talking about duties when Peter notices the scars on Johns arm and the odd bracelet attached to his cousin’s wrist.

“What’s with the scars, cousin? And why are you wearing such an odd bracelet?”

John replied nonchalantly and without hesitation, “Oh, that’s nothing. The scars are from a whipping I received when I first came to the farm for leaving without the master’s permission. And the bracelet is my slave ID so the towns people know what I am when I come to town.”

“Oh,” Peter said, his steps slowing until he’s soon at a stop. “You know what? I think I’ll say goodbye now. Give the family my love.”

John, in total confusion and anger, shouts at Peter, “What’s wrong with you? I thought you were ready to be a man? I thought you wanted to have a full belly and a warm place to sleep?”

Peter looks at John and shakes his head. “Don’t you see, cousin? I would rather scrounge for my next meal, sleep in the cold and smell like a heap of manure and remain free than be full and clean and be owned by another. With that, Peter turned and walked back to the bakery and it’s warm garbage.

The Crane and The Fox

Mr. Downey and Miss Fox were friends. One day, Miss Fox invited Mr. Downey to her home for supper. Mr. Downey accepted her invitation happily and they agreed to meet that evening at sunset.

Mr. Downey arrived looking stunning in all white. He, a dressmaker and tailor, made his entire outfit in anticipation of an evening such as this. He wore a white, silk shirt, a white suit coat, freshly pressed white pants and the most beautiful white top hat Miss fox had ever seen.

Miss Fox took Mr. Downey to the table, offered him a seat and went into the kitchen to bring out their first course; a thick, rich, tomato bisque. Mr. Downey sat, noticing immediately that the chair had a terrible wobble that made it impossible to eat the soup without making a horrid mess, ruining his silk shirt. Miss Fox, a short, plump, miserable redhead, stifled her giggles, knowing that his uncomfortable chair was due to her cutting an inch off of two of the legs.

The next course was a thick slab of beef drowned in a creamy brown sauce. Mr. Downey’s mouth watered as he began to cut into the meat. Just then, the plate split in two where Miss Fox sabotaged it, sending a river of sauce spilling into his lap, destroying his neatly pressed pants. Embarrassed, but not wanting to ruin the evening, Mr. Downy graciously accepter the glass of wine that Miss Fox offered him as they strolled into the sitting room. Miss Fox sat down, leaving Mr. Downey the only other place to sit; A high backed, comfortable chair by the fireplace. Feeling drained and tired from the evening’s happenings, he happily sits and as he leans back, the back of the chair, which Miss Fox had removed the screws from, falls out from behind him sending him to the floor, and his beautiful hat into the fire and the wine spilling and staining his suit coat.

Angry and embarrassed further, Mr. Downy got up, brushed himself off the best he could with the dignity and grace that only Mr. Downy could pull off and thanked Miss Fox for her hospitality. He left the house knowing he’d been had. A few days later, Mr. Downey ran into Miss Fox in town. He told her that he wanted to thank her for the wonderful evening they had by inviting her to come to his shop and pick out one of his dresses. Miss Fox, exited to be gifted a dress by the town’s best dress maker couldn’t resist accepting the offer.

Later, Miss Fox showed up at Mr. Downey’s shop. Mr. Downey handed her a dress to try on. She went into the changing room, and attempted to put the dress on, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t button the buttons over her robust belly. She returned the dress to Mr. Downey and he gave her another. This one buttoned, but made her look like an elephant in a delicate blue gauze tutu… She removed this dress, returned it to Mr. Downey and he gave her a third, which she couldn’t even pull over her flabby breasts. Getting frustrated, she tried on a fourth, fifth, sixth; none of which fit her rotund frame and each making her look shorter, fatter and uglier than the last. All the while, Mr. Downey sat back smiling while listening to her grunt, groan and mutter to herself from behind the changing room door. He was thoroughly enjoying her increasing frustration and discomfort.

At once, in the middle of trying on the twelfth dress, bound and determined to find even one that fit, she realized that like she did to Mr. Downey, she’d been had. She removed her dress, retrieved her own, thanked Mr. Downey for his thoughtfulness and began her trek back home. As she walked she thought to herself, “I guess what goes around really does come around.”

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1 Response to “Rewritten Aesop’s Fables… By Me”


  1. 1 Tina
    August 29, 2012 at 10:16 am

    what is the name of the original fable?


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Vomitus of the Brainus © Aimée Easton 2006 - 2011 All Rights Reserved Material contained on this site are under copyright, whether my own or someone else's. The material here is published strictly for personal use, and may not be copied to any other place without prior permission. I have borrowed or linked resources from elsewhere and I have given credit to the source from where I got material. Any form of copying or distribution, may face legal penalty.

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