Another grimm night in the mean streets of Fairyland.
The lute laid down the law; we needed to get a handle on the serial basket thief. Tonight, the perp hit Tisket and Tasket, the upscale basketry emporium again. Walked out with designer yellow number – worth one hellva lot of curds and whey.
We pulled in the usual suspects. My partner, Princess Charmless was such Grogan was good for it. But he wove us some tale about being “down under” when the crimes were committed.
I figured it was “Little” Red, the Riding Hood. Got a new basket on that hog of hers. But, she’d been taking basketry classes at the House of 3 Pigs School of Design.
. . . . [basket references stolen] . . . . .
My name is Sargent Rumpled Stiltskin, Fairyland is my beat. Yeah, the stories are true, and I don’t change names to protect the innocent. Everyone is guilty of something in this not-so-fair city.
At which point, in trying to weave this tale, I became a basket case and baled.
More baskets . . .
compiled for mlmm tale weaver 309 : a basket case