My cape of wolf fur covered me as I ventured into the 172nd Cockaigne Potluck, and I gripped my basket.
The invitation was for Mssr. Cain Lupus, III. “He won’t be needing it,” Grandma had said. “Take care of business.”
The table groaned with Queen Grimhlilde’s Roasted Heart of Virgin Rival, the Hecate Coven’s Enchanted Stew; Giant Vix’s Bone Rye Bread. I added my contribution to the smorgasbord, Strip of Riding Hood, then slipped away.
Grandma had suggested a sword, or a gun. But I’m partial to subtler arts.
Arsenic-soaked wolf jerky should take care of everyone, in the end.
Day 7 of 31: 100-word Drabbles.
Like what you’re reading? Sign up for my newsletter, and you’ll get all 31 days as an e-book collection at the end of the year (plus other goodies month by month)!