The Big Bad Goodnight

By John Cosper

For too long, people have looked to the fairy tale realm as a place where good and evil are as different as black and white. The good citizens of those dark cities and darker woods know the truth, and the truth is now in print.

The Big Bad Goodnight throws a new light into the darkest corners of a world once sanitized by the Brothers Grimm. Those who dare to open its pages will learn the real, dirty, gritty reality of the a hard luck Wolf, a femme fatale with fairy wings, a small-time hoodlum named Rumplestiltskin, a hard-luck “delinquent” with a chance for redemption, a calculating serial killer dares to called himself Charming, and an unhinged psychopath named Goldilocks.

Through six short stories, The Big Bad Goodnight will transform the way we view everything from enchanted frogs to gingerbread men. It’s noir escapade in the tradition of Double Indemnity, The Lady from Shanghai, Cape Fear, Sin City, and of course... MAD Magazine.

Pour yourself a stiff one, brother. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Cosper
• Release date: Aug 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370894758

John Cosper

John's writing career began in 1994 when he took on the role of drama leader for his church's youth program. Later that year, he founded Righteous Insanity, a drama publishing company providing skits, plays, and writing services to churches around the world. In 2011 John became a kids ministry curriculum writer for Minister's Label, creating skits, games, lessons, and more for childrens-ministry-deals.com.As time went on, John expanded his creative endeavors to film, web media, and his first love, science fiction. His credits include two feature films, multiple TV and web programs, and dozens of short films including the award winners "The Telemarketer," "Tolerance," and "Bots.""Sci-fi is a great vehicle for exploring matters of faith." says the writer whose influences include Douglas Adams, George Lucas, Joss Whedon, Philip K. Dick, C.S. Lewis, and Isaac Asimov. "It also allows you limitless opportunities for creativity and humor."His other passions include movies, sketch comedy, science fiction, comic books, football, cooking and professional wrestling. In 2014 he published a history of professional wrestling history in Louisville, Kentucky entitled Bluegrass Brawlers. In late 2014 he also released Eat Sleep Wrestle, a book about today's independent wrestling scene.When he's not writing, you're most likely to find him spending time with his wife and kids.

Book preview

The Big Bad Goodnight

By John Cosper

Copyright 2017, 2018 by John Cosper

All rights reserved

johncosper.com

Cover photography: Jason Massey

Model: Cindy Maples

Smashwords Edition

Contents

Dead Man’s Hill

The Big Bad Goodnight

Reciprocity

The Girl with the Golden Locks

The Drop

The Long Sleep

The Squealer

The Perfect Dame

Rub a Dub Rub Out

The Glass Slip-Up

Not a Peep

The Girl in the High Tower

Deadly Jack

Acknowledgements

Dead Man’s Hill

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water.

Jack fell down and broke his crown.

Jill vanished, along with all that gold Jack managed to come into mysteriously thanks to a handful of magic beans.

The Big Bad Goodnight

Like so many of the finer things in life, happily ever after seems to be a luxury reserved for the elite. Take my friend Nick. Like most wolves living in this town, he wasn't the most popular guy. What few friends he had, he threw away when he turned state’s evidence against the Peter Piper family, sending a peck of perps to the big house while he went into the witness protection program.

Enter the dame.

Blonde, built, her blue eyes alone could charm a viper. Nick had no chance when she batted her eyes at the wolf-turned-rat and asked if they could go someplace quiet and cozy. They were halfway to the gingerbread safe house when he realized the error of his ways too late.

This is from the Peter Piper family! the blonde shouted, driving her shank into his back, piercing his lonely heart. One more dead wolf no one would shed a tear for.

I pass the spot where they found Nick's rotting corpse on my way into The Woods. Night has fallen like a heavy blanket on this decrepit suburb. Once the most popular neighborhood in all the land, The Woods is a mere shadow of what it once was. Littered with ramshackle homes long past needing to be torn down. It's the kind of place you don't walk through after dark: a shanty town watched over by a hard luck kinda guy who just wants to retire to some beach town bait shop and be left alone.

That's right, this is my Woods. Wolf is the name, Wolf Hudson. Or, as the children call me, the Big Bad Wolf, little brats. They watch the news with their parents and see how, half a world away, the forces of good do battle with evil, ravenous wolves who want to disrupt the happily ever after they so enjoy. They hear rumors of wolf cells living among them, plotting slaughter and violence. They cast a suspicious eye on anyone with fangs and a bushy tail.

Forget that I was born not ten minutes from this pit, raised to believe in the happily ever after dream. I've got the fangs, the long snout, and the bushy tail, and that marks me as the enemy of the people.

I don't wanna hurt anybody. I just want to collect the rent on time so I can eat like everybody else.

The hunger leads me into the dark suburb, searching out three tenants who have made pigsties of their three bedroom dwellings while refusing to pay a dime. Blackmailing swine told me it was because I wouldn't wire their houses for cable, but I'm not the one who rooted and dug their backyards up to the point no cable guy would cross it. I'm also not the one that set up the herb lab in my living room, presenting a danger to my neighbors... Not to mention a fire hazard the insurance company would likely not pay for.

Across the street at 1315 Drury Lane, I see the Muffin Man and his wife, sitting on the porch. The self-appointed, self-righteous neighborhood watch. Old Man Muffin's been itching to put buckshot in my bushy tail for years. Better play this cool.

I knock on the door. Crashing, banging, scampering sounds from inside. I catch wind of that forbidden herb that I tried once in my younger days. Pigs love the herb.

Rent's due, little pig, I say. Bring out the cash, or bring a suitcase, 'cause you're out.

Uh, he's not here! The snort tells me he's a liar. Not that I needed any clues.

Little pig, little pig, let me in.

Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!

His vulgar mouth ignites that passion all wolves hold inside. Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!

I whip out my 9mm and blast the door down, shaking the straw walls of this shack to its foundations. The pig knocks me over running for cover, down the street.

I start after him, just in time to dodge the shotgun blast from the Muffin Man. Little tart, I got no beef with you. But just to keep him honest, I put a hole in the passenger window of his pumpkin carriage before I run after the pig.

I knew where he was headed. Meadow Drive, the house of sticks right next to the giant shoe. The old woman sees me coming, and calls to her kids. Why anyone would raise that many children is beyond me. I've done my part, called Child Protective Services. She's a human; I'm a wolf. It didn't take them long to file that one in the wastebasket.

I walk right up to the stick door. Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!

NOT BY THE HAIR OF OUR CHINNY CHIN CHINS!

Now I'm really mad. Swear in front of me? That's one thing. But two of the old woman's kids heard their foul speech this time. My 9mm is out, huffing and puffing and blowing the house down before I can say the words. The pigs, giant splinters sticking in their fat, porky flesh, run squealing through the muddy yard, hopping over the fence into Jack Horner's yard. They run