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THREE BILLY GOATS GRUFF (guess who is the troll)
fairy tale books | 11-2002 | DFU rewrite of the original

Posted on 11/11/2002 9:35:18 PM PST by doug from upland

The Billy Goats Gruff

Once upon a time there were three billy goats called Gruff. In the winter they lived in a barn in the valley where they paid outrageous utility rates thanks to Gray Davis. When spring came, they longed to travel up to the mountains to eat the lush sweet grass, have a big steak, and drink beer. They loved driving their gas-guzzling SUV.

On their way to the mountains the three Billy Goats Gruff had to cross a rushing river. But there was only one bridge across it, made of wooden planks. There would have been more bridges but the union workers had been on strike for three years. And underneath the bridge there lived a terrible, ugly, one-eyed troll named Helen Thomas.

Nobody was allowed to cross the bridge without the Helen the Troll's permission - and nobody ever got permission. After engaging in a screaming and virulent anti-Republican diatribe, she always ate them up.

The smallest Billy Goat Gruff was first to reach the bridge. Trippity-trop, trippity-trop went his little hooves as he trotted over the wooden planks. Ting-tang, ting-tang went the little bell round his neck.

"Who’s that trotting over my bridge?" growled Helen the Troll from under the planks. "Are you a right winger?"

"Billy Goat Gruff," squeaked the smallest goat in his little voice. "I’m only going up to the mountain to eat the sweet spring grass."

"Oh no, you’re not!" said Helen the Troll. "I’m going to eat you for breakfast! You want anti-abortion justices on the Supreme Court!"

"Oh no, please Ms. Helen the Troll," pleaded the goat. "I’m only the smallest Billy Goat Gruff. I’m much too tiny for you to eat, and I wouldn’t taste very good. And I didn't even vote last time. Why don’t you wait for my brother, the second Billy Goat Gruff? He’s much bigger than me and would be much more tasty. Besides, he voted a straight Republican ticket."

Helen the Troll did not want to waste her time on a little goat if there was a bigger and better one to eat, particularly one who was canceling out her votes. "All right, you can cross my bridge," she grunted. "Go and get fatter on the mountain and I’ll eat you on your way back!"

So the smallest Billy Goat Gruff skipped across to the other side.

Helen the Troll did not have to wait long for the second Billy Goat Gruff. Clip-clop, clip-clop went his hooves as he clattered over the wooden planks. Ding-dong, ding-dong went the bell around his neck.

"Who’s that clattering across my bridge?" screamed Helen the Troll, suddenly appearing from under the planks.

"Billy Goat Gruff," said the second goat in his middle-sized voice. "I’m going up to the mountain to eat the lovely spring grass."

"Oh no you’re not!" said Helen the Troll. "I’m going to eat you for breakfast. You voted for people who are poisoning the air, taking school lunches from children, and trying to destroy the trolls' social security benefits."

"Oh, no, please," said the second goat. "I may be bigger than the first Billy Goat Gruff, but I’m much smaller than my brother, the third Billy Goat Gruff. Why don’t you wait for him? He would be much more of a meal than me. And I promise not to vote next time."

Helen the Troll was getting very hungry and was worried about being late to a Sinkmaster speech, but she did not want to waste her appetite on a middle-sized goat if there was an even bigger one to come. "All right, you can cross my bridge," she rumbled. "Go and get fatter on the mountain and I’ll eat you on your way back! Vote for Bush in 2004 and I'm going to hunt you down and kill you."

So the middle-sized Billy Goat Gruff scampered across to the other side.

Helen the Troll did not have to wait long for the third Billy Goat Gruff. Tromp-tramp, tromp-tramp went his hooves as he stomped across the wooden planks. Bong-bang, bong-bang went the big bell round his neck.

"Who’s that stomping over my bridge?" roared Helen the Troll, resting her Clinton DNA-stained chin on her hands.

"Billy Goat Gruff," said the third goat in a deep voice. "I’m going up to the mountain to eat the lush spring grass and smoke a good cigar."

"Oh no you’re not," said Helen the Troll as she clambered up on to the bridge. "I’m going to eat you for breakfast!"

"That’s what you think," said the biggest Billy Goat Gruff. Not only did he vote a straight Republican ticket, but he used his tax savings to buy a Bowflex Home Gym and get into great fighting shape. He lowered his horns, galloped along the bridge and butted the ugly troll. Up, up, up went the Helen the troll into the air... then down, down, down into the rushing river below. She disappeared below the swirling waters, and was drowned. Soon, she would be joined by Terry McAuliffe.

"So much for his breakfast," thought the biggest Billy Goat Gruff. "Now what about mine!" And he walked in triumph over the bridge to join his two brothers on the mountain pastures. From then on anyone could cross the bridge whenever they liked - thanks to the three Billy Goats Gruff. They all vowed to go after any RATS who would stand in the way of the Bush agenda.