I have no idea where these neo-fairy tales came from. I may have been thinking about children's literature or perhaps old kids' television programmes. On the other hand, I may have been reading something about badgers and what vicious little sods they really are as opposed to the kindly image often portrayed in children's stories such as The Wind In The Willows. Wherever the inspiration came from, I thought how amusing it would be to write a story in the style of a children's fairy tale but make it defiantly adult with lashings of profanity and violence. The following tales were the result.

One day the curmudgeonly Badger was ripped from midday slumber by the heavy falling of hoof on dirt track. "By the heavens, but what is that cacophony of sound that offends my ears and disturbs my peace?" growled Badger. Crawling from his burrow to the world above, he came face to face with ravenous hounds and rowdy, gunned up, noblemen on equine steeds. "What rudeness is this?" demanded the furious Badger of these men. "We come for the hunt of foxes, oh Badger, so let us pass or become fodder for our ravenous hounds." "Hunt be damned!" screamed our irate wolverine and with a mighty leap did cause mount/steed disconnection on the nearest nobleman. Said nobleman connected with Mother Earth with great force, his twin barrelled bang-bang pipes falling by the wayside. Quick as lightening, Badger took up the weapon and precipitated head-to-crimson-mush conversion with rapid hot lead on the unfortunate blue-blood. A cry of retreat resounded throughout the forest as hasty backtrack of fearful huntsmen did occur. Badger, with smoking boom-stick held aloft, did cry after escaping hunting party, "Thou hast learnt a valuable life-lesson: Fuck ye not with a woodland Badger suffering alcohol fatigue and engulfed in midday slumber!"

One spring evening, as the descending sun-bulb sucked its light from the sky, the grumpy old badger, all brain-fuzzed and gut-buggered by the fermented wet stuff, oozed himself back towards the comforting embrace of his warren abode. Just as he was about to make twozzled contact with the entrance to his home, he was lung-emptied and knocked groundwards by a blur of fur. "Sorry old chap," said the most chipper hare that had inflicted horizontal befuddlement on our hapless badger, "didn’t see you there!" "What kind of foolishness is this: A hare haring around at night with scant regard for any that make use of public dirt tracks?" roared the badger, uprighting himself. "‘Twas but an accident," declared the hare. "Accident be damned!" cried badger. "Thou should display more care and respect for fellow path steppers. I should teach thee a lesson!" "How so, old badger?" guffawed the sprightly hare. "Tomorrow at noon we shall indulge in contest at high velocity along yonder path, using nought but those that walk us from here to there. Then thou shall learn thy lesson!" The hare, so amused at being speed challenged by an old badger soaked in boozy marinade, that he did emit a laugh of mountain like dimensions. "I shall be there, dear old badger, and I shall leave thee standing, choking on my kicked up heel dust!"

By noon of the subsequent day, news of the contest had spread far and wide and many a woodland creature had travelled to see badger and hare compete in athletic pursuit. The hare, all nimble limbed and of fit physique, performed warm up ceremonies in preparation. The grumpy badger bastard drank deeply of strong liquor from leather hip flask and emitted malt fuelled belches aplenty. "You will never win a contest of speed and stamina, oh booze stenched badger!" "We shall see," retorted badger with devious inflection. They stood poised on the starting line as a local ferret did count down to race commencement. "On your marks… Get set…" cried ferret and with blowjobbed whistle did declare the race on. The hare dashed off all long of stride and quick of pace while the badger budged not from the starting line. "Begone," wailed the crowd, "or thou shall be beaten before thou hast taken but a single step." "I think not," said badger calmly, taking swig from flask with nary a care. The hare was but a blip on the horizon as he disappeared over the brow of yonder hill. All of a sudden a pain inspired cry did pierce the peaceful forest air. With ears pricked skywards the badger declared, "Aha!" and meandered all casual like along the race track. After several minutes of gentle stroll, the badger did chance upon stricken hare, all bulge eyed with throat full of pitiful wailing. "My foot!" whimpered the hare; and sure enough, where once foot resided at the leg’s extreme there was nought but gory stump that quietly leaked. Said foot could be found to have been chomped from leg by the hungry metal jaws of a concealed bear trap that adorned the path. Said badger to the hare, "Today you have learned a valuable life lesson: Sprint ye not against pissed up badgers of amoral temperament, for what they lack in physical prowess they compensate with head bound grey stuff and merciless cunning." And with that, the badger did cross the finishing line victorious and against a chorus of cheers from fawning crowds, did wander warren bound to indulge in midday slumber.

‘Twas one fine spring morning in the forest, full of sunshine, gentle breeze, birdsong and merry bunny hops, when an almighty cry of profanity did pierce the sky and offend many a woodland creature’s ear. "My word!" exclaimed the fuzzy populace. "But what can that awful blue noise portend?"

It would have been of little surprise to many that the said potty cries were being transmitted from the burrow of one Grumpy Badger Esq., whose previous night’s indulgence in flammable spicy meat’n’rice dishes washed gullet-ways with barrels of the amber booze juice had incurred a mighty punishment. For on that bright spring morn said Badger could be found sat all bent double on the porcelain waste collector engaged in frenetic fuming arse-plop activities. "Curse my bowels this bright spring morn!" wailed the Badger piteously. "With a mighty constitution such as mine, I should not be so flumgubbered by this bum-bombardment! Poison! Poisoned I have been. I tell any that care to eavesdrop that I swear revenge on the foolish chef that desecrated this Badger’s gut with his foul curried flesh dish!"

Later that morning Mr. Ferret did chance upon Grumpy Badger, striding with purpose and resolve along the forest path. "Why good day to you, Badger." "Good day to you, Mr. Ferret," replied Badger. "Where might you be going with such a large pot?" asked Mr. Ferret, pointing to the large steel cauldron covered in foil that did rest in Badger’s arms. "To visit upon the Weasel’s curry establishment: I enjoyed a hot repast there last night so much that I thought I would repay in kind," replied Badger. "How very generous of you Badger. Good day." And with that, Mr. Ferret went about his business, marvelling at Badger’s uncharacteristic goodwill.

"Good day, Chef Weasel," cried Badger graciously as he entered the kitchen of offending curry birth. Weasel, all chef-hatted and cleaver-wielding, looked up from blood stained flesh filleting and beamed: "Good day to you, sir Badger. I trust you enjoyed the feast spawn from this very kitchen last night?" "Oh yes," said Badger, oozing innocence from every pore. "In fact, I have here a pot of most palatable delight, lovingly prepared to caress you culinary organs." "Why, so kind, sir Badger, so kind that you should go to such efforts. Prey, bring it over," said the flattered Weasel. As bidden, Badger placed the pot on the counter. Weasel, still cleaver-baring, lifted the foil to inspect the gracious gift when Badger, cheetah-quick and mercy-free, did pounce on Chef, ceasing the chopper, wrenching the poor chef’s arm behind his back and placing blade on Weasel throat. "Look then, oh villainous cook, look and see the special dish I spent all night preparing for you!" Forcing Chef’s head deep into cavernous pot, Badger did let him partake of the acidic fumes of all-night Badger bladder expulsions. When Weasel did begin to gag and choke on said butt-junk Badger pulled him up, blade still threatening nonce/torso disengagement, and whispered with vicious intonation "Many curries of hot character have slid-slopped down my gullet and passed without fuss through my lower rear exit. So how then can it be that after gobbling on a Weasel Curry my iron constitution melts and spews the burning bum-stuff out through my gaping crack-gap with such devastating gusto?" Gasping with fear Weasel did reply "I know not! For believe me when I say that only the freshest ingredients do I use!" "Fresh be damned!" screamed Badger and once again was Chef’s face pressed pot bound and cackwards. As Weasel began to wretch on soiled Badger stench, Badger did kick Chef to the floor and, standing over the stricken cook, did say "I feel my spew stew may be lacking… Perhaps it needs some extra golden marinade." Unzip his zipper he did, and aimed hairy hosepipe at weasel visage. "No wait!" wailed Chef Weasel. "I admit, yester-evening I did use perhaps less than fresh produce to prepare your supper. ‘Tis true and so ashamed am I." Badger did then put the one eyed child to bed and said to fear-struck Weasel "Today you have learned a valuable life lesson: Feed ye not less than fresh produce to a Badger of sensitive palette and unstable temperament for what foods do repeat on him shall be repeated onto thee." And with a mighty swing of gleaming cleaver the vengeful badger did deprive Chef Weasel of reproductive functions and did make meaty addition of bloody meatballs and sausage to the stew of badger gut-garbage. "Come feast, Chef Weasel," said Badger stuffing plump meaty goodness gob-wards on whimpering weasel, "for thou should be well sated before one partakes of well earned midday slumber."

One fine summer morn the Grumpy Badger did arise from slumber all bonce-bodged having been, the night before, rendered horizontal by excessive alco-sumption. He did stagger with cranium clutched to his washroom only to find the porcelain waste bucket all backed up and blocked by sundry bladder bobbins. "Curses!" cried Badger, shielding olfactory functions from overwhelming shite stench. "I must procure the services of Plumber Grey," he did say unto himself, referring to the furry handy-rat of unusually large proportions. With this mission in mind, he did step out into the morning sunshine.

Strolling all mumble-mouthed down the woodland path towards Plumber Grey’s workshop, Badger was set upon by a pair of leather-clad bunnies, all rough of visage and mean of mien. "Give us ya money!" did cry the rabid rabbits, brandishing gleaming blades of metal at our wolverine of misanthropic countenance. Badger did regard these floppy eared fugitives and said, "Why would I want to hand over my currency?" The criminal pair did advance in threatening fashion and hissed, "’Coz we’ll slice you open if you don’t!" After due consideration the Badger did slowly reach into his back pocket, but instead of producing leather bound notes of legal tender, he did whip out a gun of nine inch metal projectiles. Quick as a flash, Badger did trunk-pin the nearest bunny to nearby tree. The tree-stapled rabbit did yell in anguish as Badger turned his grievous attention to the remaining mugger who stood transfixed at the advancing mass of nail gun wielding menace. As Badger did level said powered implement to a point between the eyes on the fearful vandal, the bunny did turn and flee into woodland foliage. "Bunnies be damned!" the Badger did yell after absconding thief. He turned his attention to the remaining trunk-stuck accomplice and did utter these words: "Today thou hast learnt a valuable life lesson: Mug ye not a tooled up Badger of sociopathic nature, engaged in a search for the big grey plumber."