Very Grimm Fairy Tales

WriTTeN By TreVor sTroNG WiTh illUsTraTioNs By leN PeralTa

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sylVia’s Dream
Sylvia had always wanted to fly. She loved to watch the birds soaring in the air. Sylvia had dreams. She’d be standing at the edge of a cliff, staring down at the ground far below. Then she would jump. And as she fell, wings sprouted from her back, and soon she was flying, higher and higher. Flying with the birds! Every night she had this dream. And every morning she awoke disappointed. Until one night, while dreaming her dream, she was awakened by a voice. “You can fly, you can fly,” sang the voice sweetly. “Who’s there?” Sylvia asked. And there, on the window sill, rested the most beautiful bird, with long plumes that seemed painted by the rainbow itself. “You can fly. You can fly,” it sang, as it flew lazily out the window. Sylvia followed it through town, past fields, and up a steep hill. Then, just as dawn was breaking, the bird led Sylvia to a cliff. The cliff in


her dreams! “You can fly. You can fly,” sang the bird. Sylvia stood on the edge and looked down. It was a sheer cliff with jagged rocks at the bottom. She felt sick. “You can fly. You can fly,” sang the bird. Sylvia knew what to do. She fell forward. Down she went, the ground rising to meet her, the jagged rocks growing closer and closer, faster and faster. She hoped she was still dreaming. She was going to hit! Then, suddenly, the rocks retreated. She was flying! Wings the colour of the rainbow had sprouted from her back! Higher and higher she flew, until she saw the whole land bathed in the day’s new light! Then—splat!—she collided with a Boeing 747. Her body flew through the cockpit, killing the pilot instantly. The plane veered out of control. The passengers screamed the scream of the damned. Down went the plane. Plummeting towards the earth … towards town … crashing into a large apartment building … exploding in a fireball. No one would ever identify the bodies. And all because one little girl wanted to fly.




The Boy WiTh Too maNy TeeTh
There was once a boy named Timmy who lived with his mother and father in a small house. Timmy was a greedy boy who looked under cushions for change and asked for a raise in his allowance every week. One day Timmy felt a pain in his mouth. He touched the hurting tooth with his finger. It wiggled! He wiggled it and wiggled it until, suddenly, it came out! Timmy, not used to parts of his body falling off, ran to his mother. “Mommy!” he cried. “My tooth came out and I can’t get it back in!” His mother looked at him with a my-little-boy-is-growing-up smile. “You don’t need to put it back in. Soon a new tooth will grow.” “Really?” said Timmy. “Yes. And if you put the tooth under your pillow tonight, the Tooth Fairy will come and leave you a nice shiny quarter.” “Really?” said Timmy, his eyes filled with greed. “Can I go to bed now?” It was five o’clock. Timmy wasn’t allowed to go to bed until eight, and then he couldn’t get to sleep. He was thinking of the nice shiny quarter he’d have in the morning. And, when he finally did sleep, he dreamt of dancing fairies, frolicking


teeth, and rivers of bright shiny quarters. When he awoke, he looked under his pillow. There it was! A quarter! Just like his mother had said. Wow! he thought. I wish I could lose a zillion teeth! He ran downstairs to join his parents for breakfast. “How’d it go, son?” asked Father. “Look what I got!” Timmy said, holding the quarter like a trophy. “Now eat your breakfast like a good little boy,” said Mother, “and get your hand out of your mouth!” “But I want more teeth!” he said, wiggling vigorously. And, just like that, another fell out. “Wow! I’ll be rich in no time.” Timmy lost two more teeth that day and went to bed happier than ever. When he awoke, he looked under his pillow. There they were! Three shiny quarters! He ran downstairs. “Mommy! Daddy! The Tooth Fairy came again!” he said, holding up the quarters. Two teeth tumbled out his mouth. “Look—more!” Timmy lost seven teeth that day and went to bed exploding with excitement. When he awoke, he looked under his pillow. There they were! Seven shiny quarters! He ran downstairs. “Mommy! Daddy! The … the … hrrrrkkkkk—” Timmy was choking! His mother rushed over and slapped his back. “Hack!” Six teeth fell on the floor. “Look—more!” “Let’s see inside that mouth of yours,” said Mother worriedly. Timmy opened wide. Mother looked in. Teeth were growing before her very eyes! “Hack!” Ten teeth fell to the floor. “Ahhhhhh!” screamed Mother. “What’s wrong, Mommy?” said Timmy, struggling to get the words out. “I thought it was … hack… good to … spit! … lose teeth. Soon we’ll … splut! … be rich!”


“No we won’t,” she replied. “Yes,” said Timmy, teeth trickling out. “The … hack … Tooth Fairy will give me … spit … hack … plock … money.” “There is no goddamned Tooth Fairy!” screeched Mother. “It’s just a story adults made up so kids won’t whine when their baby teeth fall out.” Father, who was walking the dog, heard the commotion and ran in. “What’s wrong?” “Our son isn’t right! He isn’t right!” said Mother. Timmy felt bad. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t talk! He couldn’t even close his mouth! There were too many teeth! The trickle had turned into a stream. “Let me take a look,” said Father. But as he approached, the stream became a torrent. A geyser of teeth spewed from Timmy’s mouth, sweeping his father, mother, and dog right out the door. “Ohhhhhhh!” screamed Father. “Ahhhhhhh!” screamed Mother. “Wooooooof!” screamed the dog. The house swelled with teeth. Timmy rose atop the growing dentrifical mountain until the back of his head pressed against the roof, which creaked and groaned under the pressure, then—pop!—it came off and Timmy blasted off like a rocket! A mighty plume of teeth trailed behind him as he climbed into the sky, past the clouds, past the moon, and straight into the sun, which consumed him completely. Down below there was only silence. The town had drowned in an ocean of teeth. And not all the pillows in the world could have covered them.


There once was a girl who lived with her stepmother and two cruel stepsisters. The stepmother and stepsisters hated the girl, making her do all the chores and giving her nothing to eat but hairballs. Her name was Nancy but everyone called her Stupidgirl. Despite being treated so horribly, Stupidgirl always had a smile on her face. “I know something wonderful will happen if I remain good and true,” she’d say. One day, word came that the Prince was holding a royal ball: all the ladies of the land were invited. At this ball he was to choose his wife, for the Prince was a bit of a homebody and didn’t like leaving the castle. Upon hearing this news, the stepsisters grew very excited. “Stupidgirl, make me a dress!” said one. “But of course,” said Stupidgirl. “Stupidgirl, lick the cat hair off my clothes!” said the other. “With pleasure,” said Stupidgirl. “For I know something wonderful will happen if I remain good and true.” So Stupidgirl did all they asked, but secretly made her own dress as well. And when it came time for the ball, Stupidgirl put on her dress too. “What are you doing, Stupidgirl?” asked her stepmother. “You can’t


go to the ball. You’d just embarrass us. Take off that wretched dress and throw it in the fire.” “But of course,” said Stupidgirl. And she did, saying, “I know something wonderful will happen if I remain good and true.” And so her stepmother and stepsisters went to the ball while Stupidgirl stayed home and waited for something wonderful to happen—for, she figured, if ever there was a time for something wonderful to happen, this was it. She waited and waited. Nothing—no fairy godmother, no singing birds, no little elves or leprechauns, nothing. She was all by herself, and it was getting late. Finally, she went into her sister’s room, stole a dress, and went to the ball. “Now I know something wonderful will happen,” she said, as she ran down the road. She arrived at the ball in the nick of time—the Prince had just made his appearance. But it didn’t matter. He spent the whole night dancing with a beautiful girl in a sparkling dress who had arrived in a magic pumpkin. How could Stupidgirl compete with that? “Hey, Stupidgirl, you’re not supposed to be here,” said the older stepsister, spotting her. “Yah,” said the other stepsister, “why don’t you go home and clean the toilet with your tongue or something.” Stupidgirl lost it. No longer believing that something good and true would happen, she took matters into her own hands. She grabbed the older stepsister by the hair and smashed her head into a table. Then she punched the younger stepsister in the gut. Both stepsisters landed on the floor, where Stupidgirl kicked them repeatedly with the pointy toes of her party shoes. “It’s Nancy! It’s Nancy!” she yelled, her footwear covered in warm blood. “It’s Nancy! You dizzy witches!” “Hey now!” said a guard, grabbing her. “The ball’s over for you.” The guard tossed Stupidgirl outside just as the clock struck twelve


and the mysterious woman who had danced with the Prince came running out the door. “Bitch!” said Nancy, sticking her foot out to trip the woman. She didn’t succeed, but she did manage to knock off one of her glass slippers. Nancy was never quite the same again. In fact, her stepmom and stepsisters grew fearful of her hot temper and foul mouth. For a while, it was tense around the house; then, slowly but surely, something wonderful happened. They grew closer as a family. After all, what they’d always hated about Nancy was that she never stood up for herself. Nobody likes a doormat.


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