3The Gingerbread Man, revisited
You know that old story about the gingerbread man, right? No? I'm surprised... Everyone was so mad at me that day, but I don't really care. They're always mad at me. Yup, me, the fox. They've never called me anything but that. "John, John, the great goose is gone, and the fox is on the down!" No respect, no respect, no- Oh, you _want_ to hear about the gingerbread man? Well then...
The Gingerbread Man
by S. Fox
as told to [Antithesis]
I was sulking around town like I usually do, looking for an unguarded chicken or two, when my nose caught something _good_. I mean drop-dead good. I mean so good, it was enough to make a meat addict like me eat gingerbread, which it was. Oooo, I could smell the frosting... and the gumdrops... I couldn't take it anymore! I ran as fast as I could (which is pretty fast if I do say so myself), and I ended up at the window of the house of the little old lady and the little old man.. Well, how should I know their names?
Anyway, I overheard the lady talking to the man. I'm so lonesome," she said, "and you're so hungry, so I baked us a little gingerbread man."
"Ooo, boy!" said the man, "it sure smells good!"
Now, why an old lady would make a friend out of _food_ is beyond me. In my book, food's for eating, not talking. And this _is_ my book.
Anyway, as soon as the little old lady opened the oven door, the little man jumped out. *Woah,* I thought, *that must be some really good bread!* I was just about to jump in the window and grab him when he started yelling.
"Run, run, run, fast as you can," he shouted, "you can't catch me; I'm the Gingerbread Man!" And then the little twerp runs out the door and down the street, the little old people chasing him.
Now if you ask me, which I _know_ you are, they had it coming. If you're going to make a gingerbread man that good, it's gonna play hard to get.
Anyway, the scene was so comical, I nearly forgot to run after them (keeping a safe distance, of course). We ran until the little man came to a cow that just happened to be grazing in a field. He stopped to talk to the cow, and the cow said, "Boy, you sure smell good! Mind if I take a bite?"
And the little sweet cake only said back, "I ran away from the little old lady and the little old man and I can run away from _you_ too! Run, run, run, fast as you can; you can't catch me; I'm the Gingerbread Man!" And then he takes off again.
So now we've got the cow and the old people chasing this little bucket of sweetness. Now, around this point my brain kicks in. I have a pretty good brain if I do say so myself, which I am. Now, I get to thinking. I'm thinking, "This guy keeps going in the same direction. I should probably figure out where he's headed and cut him off, hmm?" So I figured out that this guy's headed straight for the wide creek, and I ran over there as fast as I could, which is pretty fast, right?
Now, a little about this creek. It's called the wide creek because it's about three feet across, but it's not more than a foot deep. No problem for me, but it's a death sentence for little Ginger over there.
Then, right on cue, over the hill comes the G-man with 2 kids, a cow, and the old people far behind. He went up to the edge of the creek and started whining: "It's too deep, and if I try to swim, I'll probably fall apart!"
"Hey, buddy," I whispered. "I'll take you across. No charge. For my little pal." Well said, if I do say so myself.
Now, keep in mind, the G-man wasn't born yesterday; he was born an hour ago. As stoopit as they come. So he hopped on my back and yells, "Let's go!"
So I walked out to the middle and put my tail under the water. "Oh," I said, trying to sound worried, "the water's getting deep. I don't think I an keep my back above the water. You'll have to climb on my head." Which he did.
Now, this is the part where I was really good, and I _am_ saying so myself. This little guy was literally on my nose. If I had simply sniffed hard, one of his little gumdrop buttons would've gotten caught up my nose. But I had to do it just right, and that wasn't right. Timing it carefully, I flicked my head straight up. The little gingerbread man flew straight up...
"Weee!" he was yelling.
... and into my mouth. Now, stolen goods always taste good, but that little gingerbread punk was the best thing I had ever tasted, except maybe that lump of cheese I stole from the crow. But that's another story.
And you know what made G-Man even sweeter? I ate him in full view of _everyone_. The little old lady, the little old man, the fat cow, and the two schoolchildren. I looked at them in my sly little way to say, "Nah-nah, I got G-man and you didn't." Then I turned around and walked off.
Now, that hunk of bread was good, don't get me wrong, but it had taken so long to catch it, it was time for lunch. So I went back to what I was doing before, looking for an unguarded chicken or two. And that's what I've done just about every day since then, but that gingerbread man was the best ever. And I _do_ say so myself.
[Antithesis] .com