Goldilocks Dark Tale: Reynard the Fox and the Three Bears
One bright morning, the three bears left their cottage to cool and wander off into the woods. Reynard the fox was passing by. Reynard was clever, quick footed, and always hungry, and he had a nose that could smell warm porridge from three fields off. He crept up to the cottage, sniffed at the open window, and let himself in without so much as a knock, for foxes are not known for their manners.
He found the porridge steaming on the table and helped himself first to Large Bear's bowl, but it scorched his tongue something fierce. He tried Mid Bear's bowl next, but it was too thin and watery for his taste. Then he tried Little Bear's bowl, and finding it warm and thick and just right, he ate every last spoonful, licking the bowl clean with his sly pink tongue.
Full and pleased with himself, Reynard tried the chairs. Large Bear's chair was too hard beneath him. Mid Bear's chair creaked and wobbled when he settled in. Little Bear's chair fit him perfectly, until he leaned back too far and it snapped clean in two beneath his tail. Reynard yelped, shook off the splinters, and decided a nap might settle his nerves.
Upstairs he found the beds. Large Bear's bed was too firm and smelled of pine needles. Mid Bear's bed was too soft, and Reynard sank into it like a stone in a pond. But Little Bear's bed was just right, warm and soft and smelling faintly of honey, and Reynard curled his bushy tail over his nose and fell fast asleep.
Before long the three bears returned, hungry from their walk. Large Bear looked at his bowl and rumbled, "Somebody has been eating my porridge." Mid Bear looked at hers and said, "Somebody has been eating my porridge too." Little Bear looked at his empty bowl and cried, "Somebody has eaten my porridge all up!"
They found the broken chair next, and Little Bear wailed louder still. Then they climbed the stairs, and there upon Little Bear's bed lay a fox, fast asleep with a very full belly.
Little Bear's cry was so sharp that Reynard woke instantly. He took one look at three bears looming over him, and did not wait to explain himself. He shot out of the bed, through the window, and off into the trees, his red tail streaming behind him like a flag of surrender.
The bears never did catch him, but from that day on, they kept their door bolted and their porridge covered, for a clever fox with an empty stomach is a hard thing to keep out of a house.
