Little Red Riding Hood entered the cabin, with a basket full of fruit. There's a wolf where her grandmother should be, and it's rather not cute. You are not my grandmother, said Red, and that wolf replied from bed...'Did you bring pecan pie from that negro at market?' Then Red shuddered, and her gaze she did arc it. Oh, she said to herself, eyelids closing half. It is you, grandmother, with your poignant racist laugh.


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