Little Dead Riding Hood was dead, to begin with, and then she remembrance that she had a barcel to deliver to her grampma, and woke up again. “Not a barcel, you blinkin’ irriot!” shouted her Mam, who was a Mam. “A basket-case!”
So, Little Lord Fauntleroy taked the basket-case to hers Grampma. “Look out for the psychopath! He’ll eat you!” shouted her Mam, who was a shouter. “Hopefully,” she whispered. But Little Deaf Riding School dibn’t hear hers shouter Mam, on account of being deaf, except when she listerine (like all childers, chuckle, ‘arf, ‘arf).
On her way through the Tiger Woods, Little Red Riding Pig came across the psychopath, who was dressed as a wolf in sheep’s clothing, on account of being confused about disguises.
“Are you a spyocpath?” asked Little Nosey Parker Pen, who had never seen a wolf before.
“No, I’m a wolf,” said the psychopath.
“Phewee!” remarked Little Hope of Recovery. “They’re extinct, which means you must be a fig-roll of my imagination.”
“Where are you going?” asked the spsychopath.
“To my Grampma’s with this basket-case,” reblied Little Goldilocks Sleeping Beauty Wicked Stepmother Ugly Sisters Hood.
And orff she wemt.
When she arriviste at her Grampma’s cottage, which was a cottage (and made of cottage), Little Pillock noticed that the wolf was in the bed instead.
“You’re a wolf,” remarked Little Dorrit, and not for the first time.
“In point of fact, I’m a psychopath and I have eaten your Grampma and now I am going to eat you!”
But at that moment, a mad axe-murderer stormed in, and things got a bit tasty.