Hansel and Gretel: A Revised Version
14
“I’m hungry, Hansel,” Gretel complained. She and her brother were walking along the path into the woods. Though their cheeks were still full, Hansel nodded his head, swallowed, and said, “Yes. Hungry.” Hansel always agreed with his sister. The moment he finished talking, Hansel reached into his bag and shoved some grayish crackers (chips?) into his mouth. He wasn’t very careful; the two dripped crumbs as they walked. “I want more to eat,” said Gretel, though she had so much food layered on in pouches all over her body that she waddled like a penguin. As she spoke, she pulled a stale dinner roll (or maybe a very gray potato?) out of a pouch, twisted it into her hair, and gulped it down in a bite. “More,” her brother agreed, shoving something burnt and blackened into his mouth. Gretel looked distastefully at the trees, bushes, and flowers growing on the sides of the road. “Too much green,” she said. “Like vegetables.” “Vegetables. Yuck.” said her brother. “Need more food. Good food,” said Gretel, small sharp greedy eyes scanning their surroundings. “Yes! Food!” said Hansel. “We need house!” Gretel glared at her brother. She didn’t like it when he said something she didn’t already say. Unfortunately, he was right. The two children needed a house so they could be full. The nearest house was about a mile from where the siblings were on the path. In the bright, cheery kitchen, a nice little old lady hummed as she wiped vomit off of the floor. Then she went and took a shower to get all the blood out of her hair. Hmmm. Maybe she’s not so nice after all. Anyways, when Hansel and Gretel got to the house, their mouth watered just from the sight. It was built of real brick, not those fake things you see nowadays. It had not one but two stories and one of those quaint garden benches that just begged to be eaten--I mean sat on. The sun gleamed off the tiles and the window panes. The twin’s eyes grew wide and glassy as they walked towards the shimmering house as if in a trance. They could taste it already, smell the luscious scent of mortar and cement, feel the wonderful crunch of roof tiles. They descended upon the building like ravenous wolves and started to eat to their heart’s content. Oh, how wonderful it tasted! Their steel, twisted teeth sank into the walls of the house like a knife through butter. They crunched and snapped their way through half a wall and a window before the old lady came out, horrified. “What are you--are you eating my house?” she asked. Hansel and Gretel didn’t even bother to reply. They were too busy chewing through the walls like they were gingerbread. The wall and part of the roof were demolished by now.
