GRETEL : THE REAL STORY
Many of you know the famous fairy tale Hansel And Gretel. What you may not know is that it was based on a true fact. The story, though, was a bit modified to become a cautionary tale for adventurous kids. My wife had told me how her Germanic ancestors have conserved the memory of Gretel's story through the years, and it's my honor to share it with you now...
Once upon a time...
Contrary to popular belief, Hansel and Gretel weren't siblings, but husband and wife. They had gotten married fairly recently and seemed happy. The young couple lived in a small house near the dark forest, a place full of mysteries, and beyond which, it was said, was waiting a new world of opportunities.
But the second year of their marriage was a hard one. The weather had been extremely dry, and the harvest was spoiled. Since they were living from the fruits of their land, the young couple was starting to suffer from the drought. Even the once voluptuous Gretel was getting painfully skinny. It's at that time that she made a decision. She would leave to look for new opportunities beyond the dark forest.
That didn't please Hansel. His male pride, coupled with a sincere concern for his wife's safety, wouldn't permit such a thing. He asked of her to wait just a few days, for he would go to the village to look for work.
The next morning, as his figure disappeared over the horizon, Gretel went looking for her bags. She knew that the prospects of employment in the village were very poor, and she would take care of their situation, no matter what. After all, the legends about the dark forest were only that, after all: legends.
She stood in front of her home for a long moment before walking towards the woods. In the house, a note was left on the dinner table. Through the window, Gretel seemed to be devoured by the forest as she entered the fabled woods.
She walked for a whole day, nibbling on leaves and mushrooms to keep her strength up. As the night fell, Gretel could walk no more and crumbled on the mossy floor. As she was falling in a deep slumber, she saw a large figure loom over her. Then she had a dream of flying over the trees at a great speed.
The sweet smell of pastries and gingerbread woke her up. She was in a rather large cage, which floor was covered with a thick mattress. The large room was beautifully decorated with various designs she once saw on the side of a cake in the town's bakery. There was a huge furnace in one corner, surrounded by a wealth of delicacies and sweet smelling desserts. The windows were framed by what seemed to be candy canes. This abundance of food created a sharp desire inside her belly. She was hungry. VERY hungry.
"Welcome to my humble abode."
The voice was warm and sensuous. Gretel turned to see a very large white haired woman walk towards her. Actually, the 500 pounds plus body of the host would actually waddle more than walk, her thick hands swaying back and forth. Her huge breasts were quivering under her long black dress. The belly was enormous, pushing against the fabric of the dress and shook wildly with every step.
"I won't fool around with you, young one. I'm going to fatten you up. My last decent meal was over a month ago, and my belly wants more than the 100 pound stick of celery that sits in that cage. Don't try to fight it, you won't be able to. You won't be able to resist the hunger that is inside of you. Mind you, I didn't seem to have to work hard on that spell. There is already quite a glutton sleeping deep down in your soul."
Gretel was shocked. This was horrible. But she couldn't deny her hunger. It was literally eating at her. The scent of food was driving her wild. She felt dizzy. The world span. Or actually, it was the cage, being moved around. It was then being pushed towards a mountain of fattening foods. All of it was pretty much at arm's reach, as she
grabbed a piece of a great gooey cake and swallowed it almost in one huge bite. The flavor was extraordinary, and irresistible. She frowned for a moment. Trying to control her hunger. She had to stop. She had to avoid gaining weight, or she would become the main course. Her eyes filled with tears as she sat in the far corner of the cage. Trembling, she was trying not to hear the taunts of the fat witch. After an apparently eternal moment, her blue eyes glanced through her fiery red hair. The food was still there. Waiting for her to get at it. She let out a loud yell as she plunged towards the savory temptation, and started to eat like if there was no tomorrow.
Through the loud sounds of her own munching and masticating, she could hardly hear the witch laugh.
Back at the house, Hansel came back to announce the great news; he had found a job as an apprentice cook in the town's bakery. He was bringing with him a bag full of treats to feast on tonight. He had been gone for three days, and was more than eager to meet his wife at the door. But she wasn't outside. And no lights were coming from inside the house. Fear swelled up inside him as he started running towards the house. He opened the door to an empty house. Despair was gnawing at him as he saw the note on the table. Her wife had left and braved the dark forest. He felt a mixture of pride and anger towards Gretel. He bolted outside his home shouting her name.
A week had passed inside the gingerbread house (which was, Gretel had learned, exactly that; a whole house made of pastry and gingerbread). The figure in the cage was looking quite similar to her old self; a 155 pound plump beauty, red faced from the constant eating, whose nude body was entirely covered by bits of food. Still the "mountain" of food wasn't getting any smaller. In fact, it was actually growing as the witch cooked up a storm at the stove. The witch had told her that she would feed her until she was until as big as she was herself.
Sometime during the second week, the witch had started to feed Gretel by hand, as the 275 pound cutie was getting often too tired to bend towards the heaping pile of food and would rather lean back and accept everything the witch was getting to her lips. The whole experience was so exciting that she was overcome by her constant hunger, and had completely forgotten about her predicament. It was as if she was under a devious spell. And she probably was, come to think of it.
As the third week rolled by, the now four-hundred pound Gretel was a sight to behold. Her legs were spread apart by the round mass of her bloated belly. Her arms were like huge sacks of flour and her legs were as big as barrels. Her face had taken the form of a full moon. Every movement she made sent waves across her vast body. Still she would go on eating. Helped now by chubby little fairies who would carry the foodstuff to her eager mouth. The witch was too busy to help Gretel feed herself anymore, since she had redoubled her efforts in cooking as much fattening goodies as she possibly could.
Finally, as the first month was coming to a close, the witch waddled towards the cage from which some of the 650 pounds ball of flesh was pouring through the bars. She was still absentmindedly nibbling as she heard the key open the lock. The door opened to reveal the globular wonder sitting inside. Gretel's enormously pudgy arms brushed
against her forehead, pushing away a red lock of hair. Her eyes were somewhat smaller but still strikingly bright. Her face was puffed up and her lips had a permanent pout to them. In that moment, she seemed to realize what was happening. A great sadness was coming over her. Was it because she was about to die in a most horrible manner?
Or was it the loss of her happy life with Hansel? Or maybe it was because of the end of that glorious eating marathon.
She wasn't sure. As she struggled to get up, with some help from the witch, and with a little push from the now very fat fairies who were still able to fly. (They had been overindulging themselves and some were snoring loudly on the floor, pinned down by an apple-shaped mass of flesh that was their bloated stomachs).
As she stood up, she came face to face with the witch. She could feel the hunger in her pale green eyes. She was being lead slowly, (as she had some serious problems walking, her legs not being adapted to carry so much weight, or to function with so much encumbrance of flesh) towards the huge jaws of the giant furnace. She could hear the witch smacking her lips with delight. Then the impossible happened. A banana peel. Of all things. The witch slipped on a banana peel that had been carelessly discarded after the confection of one of the many desserts that Gretel consumed. The witch stumbled around, and finished her fall right into the furnace. The cast iron door closed on her with a loud BANG.
Gretel stayed there for a long time, wide-eyed in the face of such poetic justice. After a while, she looked around. There wasn't much food left in the house. And she was still quite hungry. She could try to go home, but once she stepped outside, she couldn't recognize her surroundings. She may have been hundreds of miles from home. And at her present size, she could hardly walk ten meters without feeling faint and flushed. She was starting to despair when she heard a loud burp beside her. It was one of the fat fairies.
"You want to go home Gretel, don't you ?"
Gretel answered with a sigh.
"Yes, but it seems so far away. If only Hansel could find me."
"Is it your mate, this Hansel ?" asked the round fairy, whose erratic flight pattern was due to her over abundance of flesh.
"It is. But he'll never find me I'm afraid."
The fairy tried to cheer her up.
"Don't worry, my lovely ; we'll help him out."
As she said this, five rotund flying forms surrounded Gretel, looked at the first fairy, and suddenly zoomed in different directions in the thick woods.
The fairy smiled at Gretel.
"He'll be along soon now. They'll find him...and he'll find you."
Happy, Gretel leaned against the door. Then her thoughts shifted to her voluminous belly. There was nothing to eat now. How could she survive until Hansel's arrival? Her finger scratched the door absent-mindedly. Sensing the curious texture, she put her finger to her face and smelled. Frowning, she tasted the bits she had scratched from the door. It was delicious. She then snapped a whole piece of the door off, sat down ponderously on the porch, and started to eat with obvious relish.
Hansel was weary. His bearded face was proof of countless days and night spent walking through the seemingly endless woods. She felt about to give up when she heard a faint voice.
"Are you Hansel? You are kind of cute! "
Hansel looked all around him, startled. That's it. He was going mad. Then he heard it again.
"Hello...did you hear me?"
He turned again to come face to face with what seemed to be a flying pear. As he squinted his eyes to better see what was the nature of the glowing floating fruit, he was startled to see that it was a very bottom heavy, chubby winged woman. She put her pudgy hands on her extremely wide hips and tilted her head.
"Gretel never told us she was married to a mute..."
Hansel's eyes lit up.
"Did you say Gretel? Where is she?"
The fairy smiled.
"IT TALKS! Right this way pretty boy!"
She started to fly away slowly. Hansel looked at her without moving, still stunned at this vision. She stopped on her tracks, and turned away, impatient.
"Well...You coming or not?"
Hansel grabbed his bags and his walking stick, and started to follow the mysterious figure. Anticipation swelled inside of him.
He walked for a solid 24 hours when he arrived near a clearing in the woods. The Fairy had stopped a bit ahead of him.
"That's odd...I was sure it was here..."
Hansel came closer.
"What do you mean?"
The fairy answered.
"Well, as I remember, we should see the house from here. I'm never wrong about these kinds of things...usually."
Hansel was getting anxious.
"But IT IS that way?"
"Yes. I'm pretty sure of it."
"Well let's go!"
The fairy looked at Hansel, then towards the clearing. She then bolted through the trees at an amazing speed.
Hansel was left behind, dumbfounded.
"Wait for me!"
He ran through the woods, sweating and cursing. Not before long, he heard a laugh. It was the fairy.
"Ha ha ha! Of course. I should have guessed!"
Hansel clawed his way through the branches to finally come out in the clearing. Then he stopped on his tracks.
In front of him was laying the ruins of a house. Some furniture, a cage and a huge furnace were standing on an empty floor. No more roof and very little of the walls remained. In front of these ruins was sitting a globular mass of flesh. It was, his mind calculated, bigger than the prize-cows in the town fair. He estimated the woman to be weighing well over a ton. Fairies were busy ripping pieces of the house and floated back to the woman's waiting mouth. She lifted her hand to stop one of them. She then slowly raised her bloated face to see who was intruding. A wide smile appeared to reveal to Hansel that his wife was still alive...and quite well as he could see. He felt his heart jump with joy as he ran towards the well-fed woman that was his wife. He knelt in front of her and embraced
her massive belly which covered the ground before her. As he sank several inches into her warm and loving flesh, and as she felt her husband tender embrace around a small portion of her abdomen, they both knew that all was well that ended well.
Now I know that some people might object in my saying that this is a true story. But believe me. It is. You see, Hansel and Gretel are my wife's direct ancestors. Their whole descendance seems to have inherited Gretel's prodigious appetite. Whenever some friend doesn't believe me, I shrug it off and go back home to my love.
As I open the door of her bedroom, which is fully equipped with an oversize reclining bed, industrial fridge and a staff of cooks and maids, I look into the bright eyes of my 3500 pound beauty, whose round face is like a small boat floating in a sea of soft and warm fat. Smiling through a mouthful of chocolate covered cherries, she winks at me and resumes her eating.
A sense of total happiness engulfs this whole house as I walk through the living room, and witness, from the corner of my eye, what seems like a flying, glowing pear. As I turn to see what it is, I stare at nothing. From the bedroom, I can hear my wife giggle and calling up to me. Who am I to resist her call?
The (Happy) End