LITTLE HOOD

This story starts out with a big crisis in my life, yes a crisis indeed. “Hi! I’m Little Robi Hood, a young and darn cute gray wolf dressed in green with a silly hat.” Speaking as Narrator again, which I’ll be doing from time to time: Now you may or may not have heard about Little Hood, who? Me. But at this point in time I’m sitting on a ledge up against one of the outer walls of the Nottingham Castle, near a steep drop, facing a forest – Sherwood Forest.

“Guess this is goodbye Little John, I'm gonna miss you.” I said.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you look more like a Dobie Hood than a Robin Hood?” asked my trusted and brave sidekick Little John, a gray mouse who really is little, although the size of a chinchilla.

“Hey Little!” yelled the Sheriff of Nottingham, a mean looking polar bear.

“Yes!!” exclaimed Little John and I, both at the same time. “I think he was talking to me, John.” I said to Little John.

“Well I’m a ‘Little’ too.” replied Little John.

“True, but I’m telling the story and I say he was calling me.” I said in a kind loving voice, ‘cause I’m a nice wolf.

“We got you surrounded, there’s no escape.” shouted the Sheriff of Nottingham and laughed – figures.

“Fine mess you’ve gotten us into this time, what are we gonna do?!” asked Little John, in a mild panic.

“Well, first of all, check this bow!” I said and took an arrow from my quiver. “And whoa, look at this arrow.”

“You got ten arrows.” said Little John, as if I didn’t know that that wasn’t enough to battle Prince John’s gorilla soldiers and the Sheriff of Nottingham.

One of Prince John’s trigger-happy gorilla soldiers then shot off an arrow, with his crossbow pointed at me. The arrow swooshed though the air, and in but a split second later . . .

“Now you got nine arrows.” said Little John.

“Everybody down!” I yelled.

“We’re already sitting.” Little John pointed out.

“I wanna talk too John before I surrender.” I shouted to the Sheriff of Nottingham.

“I’m right here.” said Little John. “Not you John, I wanna talk to Prince John.” I replied to Little John.

The Sheriff of Nottingham and all the gorillas laughed.

“What's up with that.” I said.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning, like how we got here.” Little John suggested.

“Okay.” I said, here goes. “We were in the forest of Sherwood, when we heard noises in the distance, like wagon wheels. Turned out to be the Prince of England, John and his gorillas.”

“Little Hood and Little John then ran toward the royal carriage with Prince John inside.” explained Little John. “Um, wait a minute Little John, I thought I was telling the story.” I said.

“Hmm . . . I guess you were, but don’t forget the part about the marshmallow tree.” replied Little John.

“There’s no such thing as a marshmallow tree, now Shuttingham, as in SHUSH.” I said patiently.

But back to the story – Prince John’s soldiers, and the four ponies pulling the carriage, immediately stopped.

“Who dares to approach the Prince of England unannounced?” asked Prince John the skunk, as he stuck his head out the carriage door window.

Much to our surprise, Prince John really was a skunk and wearing a gold chain necklace with a key on.

Little John couldn’t believe his eyes. “Ew.”

“What dost thou want, peasants?” Prince John asked. “Candy!” answered Little John.

“Little Hood, I presume.” said Prince John.

“No, I'm just dressed like Little Hood, we’re out trick-or-treating.” I answered.

Little John chuckled. “Good one, Robi.”

“But Halloween has not yet been invented in England.” said Prince John.

“Actually it has,” I replied, “but instead of candy, all we’re asking for is a just few a pounds, some schillings and one tuppence to help the poor.”

“A few pounds of what?!” asked Little John.

“Bah humbug! How dare ye ask his Majesty for money. Stop begging, nobody, but NOBODY like beggars.” replied Prince John.

“Ooh, money. You should’ve asked for candy.” said Little John.

“SEIZE THEM!!!” shouted Prince John.

The Sheriff of Nottingham, the gorilla soldiers and even the four ponies all gave us the stink eye.

“Happy Halloween guys!” I said. “Time to go Little John, as in, RUN!!”

Little Hood and Little John ran as fast as they could back into the Sherwood Forest, with arrows flying by as they ran – luckily the gorilla soldiers were all bad shooters.

“I can’t believe it, they're actually shooting real arrows at us.” I thought as I were dodging in and out of trees with Little John right behind me.

“I know, stop shooting!” shouted Little John.

“Could you stop listening to my thoughts.” I said.

“Sorry.” replied Little John.

Little Hood and Little John managed to get away unharmed, but this was the final drop . . . in the glass.

“Prince John won’t get away with this, overtaxing everyone so he can sleep in a canopy bed of gold.” I said, when it suddenly hit me, I had a plan!

Later that night, eleven to be precise – Little Hood’s plan was in progress, as he and Little John both stood outside Prince John’s bedroom door.

“You know what to do.” I said to Little John.

“Okay, let's start jumping?” replied Little John.

“No, not that plan,” I said, “the other one.”

Then suddenly, much too our surprise – Maid Marian, a young gray wolf just like me, well . . . except for much prettier, came running toward me in slow-motion with her mantilla veil like hair blowing in the wind.

“Excuse me Mr. Narrator Little Hood, but Maid Marian wasn’t running toward you in slow-motion and there was no wind blowing either.” said Little John.

“Oh, so you’re telling the story now, again?!” I asked. “Sorry, go on.” answered Little John.

Okay, where were we . . . oh yeah, Maid Marian came walking down the hall with King Richard by her side, a giant panda bear – which could’ve meant trouble, if it wasn’t for my great talking skills.

“What are you guys doing here?” asked Maid Marian, all surprised.

“Um, good question.” I answered, dumbfounded.

Luckily Little John wasn’t twitterpated or smitten with Maid Marian and explained the whole situation.

“Okay, I’m in,” said Maid Marian and smiled to me with those big brown eyes, “but only ‘cause you’re so cute.”

What did I tell ya?! I’m cute.

King Richard laughed quietly. “Count me in too! My brother, the royal pain, needs a lesson.”

“Brother?” Little John asked, a bit confused.

“Well, I always suspected he was switched at birth.” answered King Richard.

“Yes, I can see how that could happen – both being black and white, anyone could make that mistake.” said I, even more confused than Little John.

King Richard sighed. “He always was a real stinker, and the smelly green clouds oughta been somewhat of a clue that he wasn’t even the same as our parents.” 

A few minutes later we were back in business, and inside Prince John’s bedroom. I sneaked, or snuck, up to his canopy bed of gold and quietly moved the brown bed-curtain slightly to the side. Action!

“Stinkerooge . . . you, skunkish skunk, this is the Ghost of Jacob Marley speaking.” I whispered to Prince John in a ghostly voice.

“Marley who?” Prince John mumbled in his sleep.

“In life I was your, um . . . anonymous business partner, and tonight you will be haunted by Three Spirits,” I replied, “and haunted forever, unless you free yourself from your – CHAINS!”

Prince John rubbed his tummy. “Must be something I ate.”

Little John was then swung around Prince John’s canopy bed in a ghostlike manner, from a fishing pole held by King Richard.

All covered in a white sheet and with a candle on top of his head, Little John came to a complete stop at the foot of the canopy bed. “I am the Ghost of Christmas past.”

“Whose past?” asked Prince John, half asleep.

That was our cue to open the bed-curtains at the foot of the bed – except for the curtain made of lace, for a ghostly illusion that was better left in place.

“Your past, woo-hooo!!” answered Little John in a singsong voice.

“Say, thou are kinda small for a spirit,” said Prince John, with his eyes barely open, “but quite bright . . . could thou putteth on a cap, please?”

“What!” exclaimed the Ghost, I mean, Little John. “Stop begging, nobody, but NOBODY likes beggars. And how dare thee ask me, to put out the light I bring to the world.” “Mock me not Ghost, using mine own cruel words against me, although I most likely deserveth it.” said Prince John. “Yes you dooooo . . . and now, I bid thee farewell. Soon the next spirit will be here, and in but a few minutes teach you how to share.” replied Little John and vanished.

“Come in, come in! And know me better, man! I am the Ghost of Christmas Present.” said King Richard in a larger than life voice and laughed a jolly laugh. All dressed up in a red robe with a Christmas wreath on his head, he magically appeared at the foot of the bed.

“Come in, come in where?!” asked Prince John and sat up. “Um . . . nevermind, stayeth in bed,” answered King Richard, “perhaps that is what thou dost best, sleep while taxes are being collected from the poorest of poor who hardly has a crumb – except for thee, the biggest crumb of all.”

“Say it isn’t so, oh Ghost of Christmas Present, that I am the cause of so much misery.” said Prince John.

“Indeed thou art, thou measly miser, but why care now? If peasants have nothing, it’s their own fault.” replied King Richard.

The bell struck twelve.

“My life upon this globe grows short, I must leave little bear, so the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come can teach you how to care.” said King Richard and disappeared.

“Oh no, don’t go!” cried Prince John and crawled to the foot of his bed, but the Ghost of Christmas Present had already left.

It was time for the final visit, the visit of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. Maid Marian – shrouded in a deep black cloak, and with an outstretched hand, she approached the corner pillar of Prince John’s canopy bed.

“Yipe, I fear thee more than any other specter I have seen tonight.” said Prince John in a trembling voice, “what can I do to change?”

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come pointed to a large treasure chest, known to be full of money and gold.

“Great phantom, wishes thou that I give back money and gold to the villagers of Nottingham?” asked Prince John. The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come then pointed to an open window, from where all of Nottingham could be seen.

“I promise, I promise I will change! Now take from me this treasure chest, which weighs me down with all its money and gold.” Prince John pleaded. “All these riches are making me cold.”

Prince John then took off his gold chain necklace with the key for the treasure chest, and gave it to the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

The show was over and the bed-curtains came down, completely covering Prince John.

“That’s a wrap!” I said and winked to Maid Marian, who then kissed me on the cheek.

“Eww . . . much.” muttered Little John.

Maid Marian then quickly gave me the key and left Prince John’s bedroom with King Richard. There was however something else I was supposed to do, but Maid Marian had thrown me for a loop. Oh well, I thought, all we had to do now was get the money and gold out of here – and that’s when things went south, we didn’t have an escape plan.

“Way to go Robi.” whispered Little John.

“Little Hood!!” exclaimed Prince John as he stumbled out of his canopy bed.

“Oops, that’s what I forgot, to tie the bed-curtains together.” I suddenly remembered.

“You’ll never be the Prince of Thieves this way.” said Little John.

Prince John laughed evilly. “That’s right, you better leave the thieving to the real prince, GUARDS!”

We hurried out the open bedroom window and ended up where we are now, sitting on a ledge, ‘cause the one thing missing around the Nottingham Castle – is a moat.

“For what would we need a mote?” asked Little John.

“To swim away.” I answered.

“Ooh, a ‘moat’,” said Little John, “well that’s pretty far down and I didn’t bring my goggles.”

Yup, we were in trouble, BIG trouble.

“So, you wanna talk to Prince John, but he doesn’t wanna talk to you. IN FACT, he told us to shoot you down.” yelled the Sheriff of Nottingham.

“Could we talk over a pizza or something, as part of negotiating?!” I replied.

All the gorilla soldiers laughed.

“We ain’t never heard of no ‘pizza’.” said the Sheriff of Nottingham, then signaled all the soldiers to ready their crossbows. “Okay, ready . . . take aim . . .”

“STOP!! Hold it! In the name of, ME.” shouted King Richard in a thundering voice.

“But, your Majesty, we have orders from Prince John.” replied the Sheriff of Nottingham.

“Who’s your King? I hereby relieve Prince John of duty, and if you question me one more time . . .” said King Richard and gave the Sheriff of Nottingham the staredown.

Now normally a polar bear wouldn’t be scared of a giant panda, even if it is the king, but King Richard wasn’t your ordinary giant panda – he was a ginormous panda, the size of a polar bear!

“No, no, it was just a small misunderstanding between me and Prince John, I would’ve never given the order to shoot harmless Little Hood and Little John.” replied the Sheriff of Nottingham.

“Good, and always remember, not only am I your king, I’m also the master of all bears. IN FACT, you could call me Master Bear President, and you’re fired!!!” yelled King Richard.

“You really are THE KING,” I said, “and thanks for saving our little lives.”

“You’re welcome, and remember – there are no small lives, only small-minded people,” replied King Richard, “now about that pizza, I’ll have me some.”

“Um . . . we may have to go to Italy for that, which is why I suggested a pizza in the first place,” I said, “hoping to drag out our doom.”

King Richard started laughing. “Clever indeed, clever.”

“Well, time for us to go, but you haven’t heard the last of me.” I replied.

“Of that I’m sure.” said King Richard.

Maid Marian then waved goodbye, in the most graceful way. “See you later Robi!”

“Just ignore her.” said Little John.

“Yeah . . . I’m just gonna ignore her.” I replied and tripped over a rock that caused me to fall on the ground. “Hey, I suddenly have another plan.”

“Please, no more great ideas.” said Little John.

I quickly got up. “Think of this, somewhere out there is a family of skunks with a giant panda for a son, the real Prince John.”

“And?” asked Little John.

I put my hand on Little John’s shoulder. “Elementary, my dear Watson, this is a job for Sherlock Hood!”

TO BE CONTINUED . . .