6.
.oOo.
~ Little Red Riding Scarf ~
.oOo.
Once upon a time, in the land we know now as Soviet Russia, there lived a man. They called him "Little Red Riding Scarf", or simply "Little Red" for short. The "red" part was because he was… well, Russian, but the "little" I suppose was a joke, because the man was indeed very tall and very intimidating.
If anything, he made you feel little.
He always wore a long scarf, for reasons unknown. Not that it mattered, anyway; those who knew him understood that they probably didn't want to know why he was never seen without it.
One day, Little Red's grandmother had run out of vodka, and, well, you know how Russians are with their vodka. The gits depend on the stuff, really. And so Little Red was tasked with the deed of bringing her some fresh, new bottles.
In order to do so, he had to trek through the deep, dark woods, but that was no matter. The vodka was worth it, after all.
Grabbing a small basket to make carrying the vodka slightly easier, Little Red set off into the woods. He walked calmly – too calmly, actually, and the smile on his face was borderline eerie – but what he hadn't realised was that he had attracted the attention of a creature nearby. This creature was a rather large wolf, which was currently hiding behind a bush and watching Little Red's every move.
The wolf decided that Little Red would make quite a nice lunch, and planned to approach the man under a polite guise. He expected the man to partake in a casual conversation with him, in which the lad would gain the wolf's trust, and all suspicion would be avoided.
What the wolf certainly did not expect was his plan coming to a screeching halt just as soon as it had been put into play.
Somehow, the man must have known precisely what the wolf's intentions were, for Little Red put his hand up, palm facing outward, immediately upon seeing the wolf.
The wolf stopped dead.
"No, comrade," Little Red said. "Remember, we are in Soviet Russia."
The wolf was confused at this quite obvious statement, and his confusion soon started to morph into discomfort, then fear, upon seeing the wide smile on the Russian man's face and feeling an unexplainable dark aura emanating from the man.
"In Soviet Russia, big bad wolf doesn't eat you," Little Red said innocently. "No. You see, in Soviet Russia, you eat big bad wolf."
And so, before the wolf could blink, Little Red had gobbled him up, all the while completely unperturbed by his own actions. He admitted that the wolf hadn't had the most pleasant aftertaste, and decided that what he really needed to wash it all down was some vodka. Perhaps his grandmother would share some with him when he arrived.
The creepy git did eventually arrive at his grandmother's, having faced no other problems at all for the rest of his journey, because everything else in the woods, both living and nonliving, was bloody terrified of his unsettling presence and stayed clearly out of his path.
The End.