A/N Listen, my friends, and you shall hear of the midnight tales of Newkirk dear. Hmmm, that really doesn't have the same ring to it.

Thanks to everyone who gave me such great advice in their reviews of my previous stories! I hope I've done a better job this time.

I realize I'm probably making Carter too childish, so next time I'll have someone else ask for a story. But it does seem like he'd be the one!

This story is an answer to L. E. Wigman's request that said in their kind review of Story Time with Newkirk, "Is there any convincing you to extending this into a collection?". The answer is: yes, you can convince me; incredibly easily. But I think I might tell some pretty unknown English and Welsh fairy tales that don't get their fair due along with well-known ones. I'm not sure if Newkirk would have known the Danish fairytale Princess and the Pea, so I'm going to have him tell you some British, Welsh, and maybe Irish stories; and some that you may have never heard of. So here goes!


"Mate, it's nigh* midnight! You're not a ruddy child! Get off me bunk and go to sleep, you git!"

Carter squirmed closer to Newkirk's face, until he was eye to eye with the grumpy Englishman. Newkirk scowled at the man on his bed, but then sighed in resigned acceptance. "I suppose all you chumps are awake too?" he called quietly to the rest of the barracks.

Various voices answered him. "Yes." "Oui." "Yup." "Now I am." "Uh-huh."

Newkirk rolled over, preparing to tell them off, but he unknowingly pushed Carter off his bunk, which resulted in a loud thump. "Oh, sorry Carter! I didn't mean to."

Colonel Hogan stumbled out of his quarters. He looked quite disheveled and disoriented. "What's going on? Someone hurt?" he yawned.

Newkirk grinned sheepishly. "No sir, I just knocked Carter off me bunk."

The CO blinked slowly. "M'kay. Don't give me details. Just let me sleep." A murmur of agreement drifted through the barracks as Hogan returned to his bed.

Carter's head peeked over the edge of the bunk. "Please Newkirk? I really want to hear another story. You're really good at it. It can be quick. Please?"

Now, Newkirk had never been one to deny good things to people who would butter him up. Carter was counting on it. And sure enough, his Cockney friend relented. Stretching, Newkirk prepared to spin a tale.


"Once upon a bloomin' time ... "Happy now, Carter?" I started with the obligatory phrase." … a little girl named Goldilocks went for a walk in the forest. "Why?" "I don't know, stop interrupting". She walked up to a 'uge 'airy 'ouse. "Eww, why is it hairy?" "Carter, if you interrupt one more bloody time ... "

"Anyway, she went inside to take a look around, maybe to snitch a few loose items. "Newkirk, a jolie petite fille* would not steal from people." "Then tell me why she was in their 'ouse! It sure wasn't just to see if someone was 'ome. She may 'ave even been workin' for a fence." "What?" "A dealer. I swear you lot don't speak the king's english."

"The robber child walked into the kitchen to find three bowls of porridge. She was feelin' like she could murder* some porridge, she settled down to eat it. The first one she scarfed was too salty. "No, it's too hot." "If it was too 'ot, then she just coulda blown on it. But if it was too salty, it's ruined. Ask LeBeau." "Oui, that is true."

"The next was too sweet, but the third one was brilliant. So like anyone who finds perfect porridge, she ate it. After 'er meal, she decided to look for some worthwhile items to borrow before the bobbies arrived. "Bobbies?" "You know, the fuzz? Police?" "Oh, ok."

"In the sittin' room, Goldilocks found three different size chairs. She decided to see if any of them were comfortable. The lass tried them out, and found the first one was too 'igh, the next too low. The little one, though, was just right. But whoever made the chair was a terrible carpenter, because it broke when she sat on it."

"As she wandered around the 'ome she found three beds. Even though it's not generally a good idea to sleep on your victim, er, your dupe's bed, Goldilocks was feelin' right knackered. So she sensibly decided to try out the beds, as everything else in the 'ouse was custom made for someone else. The first bed was too 'ard. The next was too soft." "I don't think that's possible." "I'd 'ave to agree with you there, mate."

"But the third was just right and she curled up and fell asleep. "

"Meanwhile, the owners came 'ome. They just so 'appened to be three bears, Papa, Mama and wee baby bear. "Oh, now I see why the house was hairy." "Shut up before I shut you up permanently." "Growlin', they discovered what Goldilocks 'ad innocently done to their disgustin' porridge, terrible chairs, and their unsatisfactory beds. They stomped into the last bedroom and saw the small girl sleepin' there. Poor little Goldilocks woke up to three big, frightening, flesh eatin' beasts snarlin' at 'er. The sprog* ran away as fast as she could. When she got 'ome, 'er momma kissed 'er and 'ugged 'er close. The End."


"Hey!" Garlotti protested. "How come Goldilocks gets a hug for breaking and entering?"

Newkirk answered haughtily, "It's 'ow I wanted it to end. I've always admired Goldilocks for 'er guts. She only mucked up 'cause she was tired. Besides, the bears shouldn't 'ave left their door unlocked. They were practically invitin' trouble."

Garlotti shrugged. The other men, though amused, were used to Newkirk's unexpected twists and so weren't overly surprised by his turn of events. They settled down after a few moments discussion. Dreams of beautiful women and porridge soon filled the night, as the Sandman traveled on his way.


*nigh means near or close to

*sweet little girl

*to murder food is to gobbled it down

*a sprog is a kid; child