Princess Penelope And The Stupid Wolf

A Fairy Tale For Fucking Grownups

Once upon a time, somewhere in Europe, there was a princess named Penelope. Some of Penelope’s friends called her Pene for short because they were jerks who knew that it meant penis in Italian.

Penelope lived in a ginormous palace with her dad and evil stepmom Nancy. Nancy wasn’t a witch or anything, she was just really petty and liked to talk shit about her friends behind their backs.

Penelope hated living in the palace because she was expected to do princessy shit like sing to birds and weave yarn that no one would ever use at a gaudy golden loom that Nancy got at a really overpriced thrift store. On the plus side, the loom room was always empty, so it was a great place to escape to when she felt like being left the fuck alone.

On Penelope’s 18th birthday her parents threw her a huge party, complete with a harp player who kept hitting on her dad and a court jester who yelled out tons of dick jokes in front of a brick wall. Her parents considered this a really important day because she was finally old enough for them to auction her off as property to the richest man in the land.

Penelope hated parties, so while everyone mingled and harassed the jester for “the bit where you hump the stool”, she locked herself in the loom room with the biggest jug of ale she could find and just got totally wasted until she passed the fuck out. And then her nap was completely ruined by a knock on the door:

“Penelope! Your grandma is sick but she really wants some cake! Can you take her some?”

Penelope threw a blanket over the bucket she had apparently puked in and opened the door.

“Sure Nancy! Even though it’s pitch black outside and I have to walk through the woods alone, which seems really dangerous for a young woman.”

“Great, thanks honey! I’m gonna see if the harp guy can play Freebird!” Nancy sung as she chugged another chalice of wine.

In case she got hungry on the way, Penelope filled a sack with a few slices of cake and fruit and also caviar because that’s what wealthy people eat all the time. The walk was long and boring as fuck because portable music and podcasts weren’t even close to being a thing yet and grandma lived like 8 miles away at least.

“I can’t believe nobody offered me a ride here on a horse.” she mumbled. “And those rich pricks wonder why I never put out.”

After what seemed like forever, Penelope reached her grandma’s house in the woods.

Sometimes she wondered why the hell her grandma lived in a tiny house in the woods when her family was literally royalty. Why didn’t dad give grandma money so she could buy a house with indoor plumbing?

Anyway, as soon as she got there and was let in by her frail and coughing grandma, they were both attacked by a giant fucking wolf who lunged through the open door. Apparently he had followed her the entire way there without her even knowing.

“What do you want from us?” Grandma screamed as she cowered in the corner. “Do you want money?”

The wolf just laughed because he didn’t know what money was but was too macho to admit it, just like he refused to ask for directions, which was how he got lost enough to have to follow Penelope to some place where he could eat something and take a dump.

As Penelope wrestled with the wolf, who she really thought would have been stronger, her knapsack fell onto the floor. A loaf of bread tumbled out and landed right next to his face. Penelope picked it up and shoved it into his mouth. Maybe she could choke him!

“NOOOOO!” the wolf screamed through the loaf. “I’m allergic to gluten; get that shit away from me!”

“Too fucking bad!” Penelope screamed, and picked up a piece of cake.

“I’m diabetic too!” he whined.

Penelope rubbed the cake into his face as grandma cheered,

“You should have thought of that before planning a home invasion, asshole!”

The wolf went into diabetic shock pretty quickly, and when they were 100% sure he was completely dead, Penelope and her grandma skinned him and made a coat from his hide. They left the head on the coat so other wolves who might recognize his face knew not to fuck with her or anyone in her family ever again.

Penelope’s grandma was so grateful that she offered to let her move in. That way she’d never have to sing to animals or go on blind dates with rich douchebags again.

Plus, Penelope learned that by wearing her wolfskin coat every time she went into town, most strangers avoided her like the plague, including rich suitors! Well, not really like the plague…that was pretty hard to avoid back then. But you know what I mean.

The End.