“Yes! This plan is foolproof,” the wolf mutters under his breath, snuggling into Grandma’s bed.
Any moment now, Little Red Riding Hood will come through that cottage door with her basket of goodies. And once she gets close enough to tend to her “poor, sweet grandmother,” he’ll gobble her up. It’s not that Granny wasn’t tasty; he just wanted more.
As someone knocks on the door, the wolf wipes the drool from his fangs and hides his snout underneath the quilted sheets. “Come in,” the wolf calls with feigned innocence.
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