The little typo shuddered and would have wept if he could. What would happen? The eraser? The delete button? Or, worst of all… the shredder?

  “Hey, you!”

  At the unexpected sound, the little typo whipped his head around. There, between the trees to his left, stood a dark, hooded figure. Not a proofreader. But who else could it be? Who would dare to be out in the forest of gruesome grammar this late?

  “Come with me!” the stranger yelled and darted off between the trees.

  The little typo hesitated for a split second, but if he didn’t do something, he would be shredder fodder in a few seconds. He had no choice. Veering off to the side, he followed the stranger down a winding path, the proofreaders hot on his heels, shouting threats.

  “Get him!”

  “Kill the little bastard!”

  “Always use serial commas in a list!”

  “Use the present progressive tense for current action!”

  “Kill him!”

  The little typo could almost feel the bite of the eraser when, in front of him, the trees parted, and he and the stranger stumbled into a clearing with a little hut in the middle. The door of the hut was standing open.

  “Inside!” the stranger commanded.

  “But that little hut will never hold them off! They’ll just break the door down!”

  “They won’t dare! Inside, I said!”

  Resigned to a dark and desolate end, the little typo darted inside. The stranger rushed in behind him and slammed the door shut.

  Miraculously, the shouts from outside ceased. The threatening rumble of the spellcheck disappeared. From one moment to the next, all became calm and serene.

  “What in the name of all ink spots…?”

  The little typo stared out of the window, watching in awe as the proofreaders slunk away, their faces grim, their hunt at an end. He turned to the tall stranger, whose face was still covered by his hood.

  “Who are you?” the little typo whispered. “A magician? A god? What power do you possess that you can keep these hounds of hell at bay?”

  “Oh, it’s just a little trick I’ve perfected over the years.” The man pulled back his hood, revealing an oval face, a half-bald head with longish hair, and a neat little beard on his chin. “Welcome to my home, friend. My name is William Shakespeare. But you can call me Willy if you like.”

  The little typo almost fell over his own feet. “William Shakespeare! But you are a world-famous literary genius! Why would you give shelter to a little typo like me?”

  “Bah!” Willy waved his hand. “I’ve written my name alone in six different ways, not to speak of all the other words in the English language. I don’t care about spelling. In a way, you could say I’m best friends with a lot of typos.”

  “Oh, my hero!” The little typo fell to his knees and clutched the hem of Willy’s coat. “Thank you! Thank you so much! You don’t know what it means to a little typo like me to hear you say that. We’re always persecuted, laughed at, and ruthlessly hunted. And, after all, we only want to live in peace and bring a little variety to literature. Why is that so hard to understand?”

  “It shouldn’t be.” Willy sighed. “But then, my opinions on this subject have always varied considerably from those of most other people. In recent years, I’ve heard that even my works have been”—he couldn’t suppress a shudder—“edited.”

  “My condolences, Sir.”

  “Ah, well, one must forget one’s grief and move on. Come, let me show you my latest work! I’ve found seventeen spellings for the word ‘bag.’ Isn’t that interesting?”

  “Amazing, Sir! Breathtaking!”

  *********

  The little typo stayed in Shakespeare’s cottage, resting from the terrifying hunt through the woods. The very next morning, he entreated Willy to help him search for Frid, and the Bard of Avon readily agreed.

  “If I can’t save a good typo, what’s my life’s work worth?” With a determined look on his face, the poet threw on his cloak. “Let’s go!”

  They found Frid shuddering in a ditch not far from the clearing. After their disappointment on the hunt, the proofreaders had returned to the little typo’s cottage and chased poor Frid through the forest, but, by some miracle, he had managed to hide his tracks by crossing a stretch of recycled paper.

  “Let’s get the two of you back to my cabin,” Willy said and gathered poor little Frid up in his arms. “We’ll soon have you back on your feet again.”

  They returned to the hut, and it was as the poet had promised. The little typo and his friend Frid were soon well and ready to spread grammatical confusion once more.

  “But where shall we go?” the little typo asked miserably. “The proofreaders know what we look like now. They’ll be searching for us in all the literary works they can get their hands on. With those new automatic spellcheckers, we won’t even be safe in a schoolchild’s essay!”

  “Hmm…” Willy stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I might know a place where nobody would notice you.”

  The two gazed up at him, hope glowing in their little eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not sure whether you’d want to go, of course,” the poet quickly qualified. “I mean, it’s not a particularly modern living space. None of those fancy modern conveniences. But it does have a certain flair to it, if I do say so myself.”

  “What?” demanded Frid.

  “Where?” demanded the little typo.

  “Well, I don’t think anybody would notice a typo more or less in Macbeth, do you?”

  The two typos stood there, awestruck.

  “Macbeth?” Frid whispered.

  “The Macbeth?” the little typo echoed. “The Scottish play?”

  “Well, yes. I know it’s not to everyone’s taste, but…”

  Willy didn’t get any further than that. The two little typos threw themselves at him, hugging him and squealing with happiness.

  And so it came about that, in the great play of Macbethrx, the three witches tempted Macbethrx into killing his king, Duncan. And no matter how bravely he struggled against temptation, his scheming wife, Frid, finally seduced him into evil. And they all lived happily ever after. Or maybe they didn’t because it’s a tragedy. Who knows?

  THE END

  (FOR NOW)

  Afterword: Welcome to Fairyland, the Paradise of Cannibals and Big Bad Wolves

  Having finished this little collection of tales, I find that I want to go a little into why I wrote it, and especially why I wrote it the way I did. Some of you, my dear readers, were probably a little surprised at the amount of carnage and cannibalism in this anthology. Some of you might ask yourselves, is this truly a collection of fairy tales? Some might even ask yourselves, holy Hell, what kind of psycho would write this sort of crap! Is this writer crazy?

  Well, the answer to both questions is: yes.

  Yes, I am a little bit crazy (which I consider a charming personality trait), and yes, this is indeed a collection of fairy tales. Moreover, it is one that, unlike many other books, tries to deal with the dark side of such tales, which is very, very real.

  Not too many people are aware of this, but fairy tales in their original form have little to do with the modern Disney versions we are used to seeing from the movies. Let me give you just a few examples: In the original version of Little Red Riding Hood, an Italian folktale known as The False Grandmother, the wolf eats the grandmother, keeps a little bit of blood and meat as a snack for later and then invites Little Red Riding Hood to join him in bed—which she does. In the original version of The Little Mermaid, the little mermaid is a soulless creature who does not get her happy ending with the prince she loves, but instead has to suffer for years and watch him marry a human princess before finally dying. Even in the original version of Cinderella, arguably the most famous fairy tale of all, one does not have to look far for carnage: one of the stepsisters hacks off her foot’s heel to fit into the famed glass slipper. And we had better not get into t
hose less well-known fairy tales that are too gruesome or ugly to be turned into movies, such as The Jew in the Thornbush or The White Bride and the Black Bride.

  Now, one might reasonably ask oneself, what kind of braindead blockhead would write such stories for little children?

  The answer is: nobody.

  Fairy tales were not originally meant as harmless little bedtime stories. They were folk tales invented by generations of ordinary adult people for other adult people, sometimes as object lessons of what happens when you let the wolf into your house, sometimes simply as scandalous stories fit for retelling over a mug of beer in the tavern. It is the Brothers Grimm who, with brilliant ingenuity, struck upon the idea that mutilation, infanticide, racism, anti-semitism and cannibalism were wonderful subjects for a children’s book. And parents apparently loved the idea so much that, during their lifetimes, the brothers published six successive editions. New editions for children are still being published today and regularly receive five-star ratings.

  Taking all that into account, I thought it was time for a retelling which exposes the original nature of fairy tales by modernizing some of its aspects and satirizing others which couldn’t be modernized even by the most inventive Hollywood screenwriter. As for whether the result is suitable for children—I shall leave that to the parents and, most of all, the children to decide. Whoever reads this, I hope you have enjoyed my special little version of a trip to Fairyland.

  Kind Regards

  Robert Thier

  Official Chronicler of the Wicked Witch of the North-East

  P.S.: In case anyone is interested in delving more into the scholarly background I dealt with in researching for these tales, here are some recommendations:

  The Hard Facts of the Grimms' Fairy Tales, by Maria Tatar, published by Princeton University Press.

  Feminist Redemption of the Witch Grimm and Michelet as Nineteenth-Century Models, by Qinna Shen, an article published in Focus on German Studies, Vol. 15 (2008).

  The epilogue of Witch Craze: Terror and Fantasy in Baroque Germany, by Lyndal Roper, published by Yale University Press.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all the wicked witches and evil stepmothers of this world, who don’t get nearly the attention and praise they deserve. Most especially, I want to express my thanks to the staff of CrunchyBrats®, who kindly allowed me a glimpse into their special recipes. Thank you! I shall most definitely be trying out those recipes at home.

  I also want to thank the ruthless hunters who, at the command of the Wicked Queen of Grammar, hunted down and eradicated all the harmless little typos in this collection of tales: Angie Zhou, Courtney Chandler, Devika Bhatia, Gabbie, Kamini Sivajothy, Katie Stachowicz, Nela Korenica, Svasti Sharma, and a number of other volunteers who wished to remain anonymous, but whose help is appreciated no less. Rest in peace, typos.

  Finally, I want to thank all my awesome fans who have read and supported this book. This is the first time I have ventured into the dangerous territory of Fairyland, and I am delighted that you have chosen to come along on the journey!

  About the Author

  Robert Thier is a German historian, lover of old books and award-winning writer, whose novels and stories encompass the historical, satirical, and fantastical. For the way he manages to make the past come alive, as if he himself lived as a medieval knight, his inventive fans have given him the nickname “Sir Rob.” All of his stories are characterized by his very own brand of humor that has gained him a diverse readership ranging from teenagers to retired grandmothers.

  For Robert, becoming a writer followed naturally from his interest in history. “In Germany,” he says, “we use the same word for story and history. And I've always loved the one as much as the other. Becoming a storyteller, a writer, is what I've always wanted.”

  Besides writing and researching in dusty old archives, on the lookout for a mystery to put into his next story, Robert enjoys classical music and long walks in the country. The helmet you see in the picture he does not wear because he is a cycling enthusiast, but to protect his literary skull in which a bone has been missing from birth. Robert lives in the south of Germany in a small village between the three Emperor Mountains.

  Other Books by Robert Thier

  Storm and Silence

  Freedom - that is what Lilly Linton wants most in life. Not marriage, not a brood of squalling brats, and certainly not love, thank you very much!

  But freedom is a rare commodity in 19th-century London, where girls are expected to spend their lives sitting at home, fully occupied with looking pretty. Lilly is at her wits’ end - until a chance encounter with a dark, dangerous and powerful stranger changes her life forever…

  The award-winning first volume of the Storm and Silence series! Winner of the People’s Choice Award and Story of the Year Award 2015.

  ISBN-10: 3000513515

  ISBN-13: 978-3000513510

  In the Eye of the Storm

  Egypt… land of romance, mystery, and exploding camels. Lilly Linton thought she’d be ready for anything after one month of working for her boss - cold, calculating businessman Rikkard Ambrose. But when they embark on a perilous hunt through the desert, she has to face dangers beyond anything she has encountered before: deadly storms, marauding bandits, and worst of all, a wedding ring!

  Can the desert’s heat truly be enough to melt the cold heart of Britain’s richest financier?

  The long-awaited second volume of the acclaimed Storm and Silence series.

  ISBN-10: 3000513515

  ISBN-13: 978-3000513510

  The Robber Knight

  When you are fighting for the freedom of your people, falling in love with your enemy is not a great idea.

  Sir Reuben, the dreaded robber knight, has long been Ayla’s deadliest enemy. She swore he would hang for his crimes. Now they are both trapped in her castle as the army of a far greater enemy approaches, and they have only one chance: stand together, or fall. Welcome to "The Robber Knight"—a tale full of action, adventure, and romance.

  Special Edition with secret chapters revealed and insights into Sir Reuben’s mysterious past.

  ISBN-10: 1499251645

  ISBN-13: 978-1499251647

  The Robber Knight’s Love

  Ayla has uncovered a terrible secret: the man she loves is in fact her worst enemy. As a mighty army gathers to destroy her and her people, she must ask herself: will he join them to destroy her? Must she cut him out of her heart to survive?

  Or is there another way—a way to forgiveness and…love?

  Special Edition with secret chapters revealed and insights into Sir Reuben’s mysterious past.

  ISBN-10: 3000536590

  ISBN-13: 978-3000536595

  Upcoming Titles

  At present (2016), the titles listed above are Robert Thiers’s only books published in English. However, book three of the Robber Knight Saga, The Robber Knight’s Secret, as well as his latest project, Black Diaries, are being edited for publication. Keep updated about the books’ progress on the internet.

  Website: www.robthier.com

  Facebook profile: www.facebook.com/robert.thier.161

  Facebook page: http://de-de.facebook.com/RobThierHelmHead

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/thesirrob

  Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/6123144.Robert_Thier

  Copyright © 2016 Robert Thier

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

  The cover of this book was created by the author using various licensed images.

  Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

  Disclaimer:

  This work is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real names, businesses, places, events and
incidents, or to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book is also available in print book format. More information on this and any other subject connected with Robert Thier’s books on: www.robthier.com

  Endnotes

  [1] This tale was inspired by The Fisherman and His Soul, by Oscar Wilde, and The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen.

  [2] This tale was inspired by Hänsel and Gretel, by the Brothers Grimm.

  [3] This story was inspired by The Singing, Springing Lark by the Brothers Grimm.

  [4] This story is based on The Fairy by Charles Perrault.

  [5] This part is inspired by the poem I, Too, Sing America by Langston Hughes.

  [6] The larger part of this monologue is inspired by Martin Luther King’s I Have a Dream speech.

  [7] This brilliant idea was actually practiced in real life by the Anglo-American writer, literary critic, and journalist Christopher Hitchens.

  [8] This story was inspired by the fairy tale The White and the Black Bride (number 135) by the Brothers Grimm. In that story, the white sister gets the Prince, and the black sister gets torn to bits by wild beasts. I thought it might be time for a re-telling.

  [9] This tale is based, in part, on the legend of the Golem, supposedly created by Judah Löw in medieval Prague and, in part, on the ballad “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” by the German poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

 


 

  Robert Thier, WARNING! Fairy Tales

 


 

 
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