grandma devouring, wolf axing story needs more than just blood and
gore - it's needs a sense of inner conflict.
Let's start with the wood cutter. How is he doing that fateful
morning? He's hung over. He has been drinking more than usual because
the forest isn't getting any bigger and he has figured out he has
maybe another 3 to 5 years worth of logging left. Sure, there's still
plenty of trees, but the ones that are left aren't worth cutting down.
His missus, sensing his unease, points out that the butcher, the baker
and candlestick maker are doing well and why couldn't he have studied
harder and gotten and better job?
While he was fighting with his wife, his dog got the bacon he was
taking for his lunch. He kicked the dog into the basement, and banged
angrily out of the house.
Two thoughts crossed his mind: he should take the dog even though it
had eaten his lunch - he had seen wolf tracks the day before, and two
he needed to sharpen his axe. It would serve that woman right, he
thought, if I get eaten by that wolf. That'll shut her up! And if I
leave quickly she won't have more time to nag me while I sharpen, and
at the same time I can sharpen my grudge on the dull blade - it's all
her fault the forest isn't getting any bigger. And off he marched.
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