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If Tolkien had written Goldilocks and the Three Bears - Gavin Bollard

This work is Copyright by J.R.R Tolkien and any profits made from it should be forwarded to the Tolkien account as quickly as possible.

This work isn't exactly fictional but it's based on people who no longer exist, even though they did manage to hang in there for millennia, they"re all gone now, so any similarity to any bears living dead or in any form or state in-between is purely coincidental and unintentional.

All cereals portrayed in this work are the products of Uncle Toby's breakfast foods inc.

No animals were harmed in the making of this story, however several forests full of ents were destroyed to make enough paper.

This work may be freely posted around the internet without any fear or favour or whatever. I hope nobody takes this too seriously and if you do, please see a doctor as soon as possible.

Gavin Bollard - August 2002
Version 1.0

Four porridges to make for breakfast
One for the papa bear, who likes it steaming hot.
One for the mama bear who likes it heated not,
One for the baby bear who likes it just right,

But no porridge for Goldilocks,
No porridge at all
None for that little girl
That we like to maul…

Oh yes, that's right…
. And one for the little bear who lives down the lane.

Introduction by somebody
(though not Christopher Tolkien after all).

I am very pleased to be able to present this story by my father, who wrote it in morse code on handkerchiefs during his years in the trenches of the great war. I discovered these writings in 1986 following a sudden cashflow problem and I'm very pleased to be able to present them to you after all the time they have lain in the washing basket.

My father had never finished these wipings, hence they were never published and I believe that they form part of a much larger body of work, which may yet lie undiscovered.

I am grateful to all of those who assisted me in the translation of these wipings from their original morse code (snot, snot, w-i-p-e, snot, snot). It was a long, painstaking and messy business but I think I have remained faithful to my father's memory.

Well, without further ado, I will let you begin the reading of this great work.


Once upon a time, there were three bears who lived in a small but cosy bearmull. Bearmulls, of course, are holes in the ground, not a dirty old hole like the bears of today live in, but a comfy dwelling with a large door marked with a bear paw print and a sigil of the society of bears. Of course, these bears were somewhat different to the bears of today having, among other things, the power of speech and a taste for porridge covered in lashings of honey from the angora bees of the western province, in the shade of the mountain of Rath, or as it was know to the bearlings, the honey mountain.

In this particular bearmull, there were three bears, or more correctly, two bears and a bearling, bearly 350 years of age. For a bearling, this was barely out of toddlerdom and not nearly as old as it sounds.

The largest of the bears was known as Papa bear, though most of the other bears in the valley of Beardul called him barney the banana-eating bear, on account of his uncanny tendency to consume copious quantities of bananas as they washed down the banks of the Araween from the banana republic to the north. Bananas make an excellent additive to porridge.

Of course, Papa bear's wife never called him that, and it would be exceedingly silly for her to refer to him as Papa bear since he was clearly not her papa at all. Mama bear, or bearette, as she was called by some usually referred to papa bear as honeybunch and teddy was his name. But we shall call him Fred in this story for you can never have enough names and henceforth he was called Fred by all but his closest friends.

The next largest bear, Amandaline, was alarge female bear who took great pride in having been a product of the union between a polar bear and a koala bear. Amandaline, or mixed-bag baby as she was oft called was a very house-proud bear and she would often be seen pottering about and flicking Willy, her feather duster around Sam, their house. Willy, as you would expect, was no ordinary feather duster having been created from the aft feathers of a phoenix named Joaquin, brother of River, who died at the hands of MrOverdose.

The last of this happy trio of bears was baby bear, a fine strapping bearling, born amid considerable social trauma just three days prior to the three thirty seventh birthday of his uncle Marvin, son of Elvin and Alvin and hence on Sundays at about a quarter past three, he was referred to as almost-birthday bearling., though most people simply called him furface, which in bearease, the language spoken by polar bears, and adopted in part by the brown variety, means, quite literally, "little bear who is going to have to shave a lot when he grows up".

Furface had inherited his mother's Koala-nose and his grandfather's lemur feet. Not that Kam-ach-ee, his grandfather was a lemur, or in any way related to one. In fact, the family had no lemur blood in it at all, Kam-ach-ee simply had lemur feet and that was all there was to it. Nobody else had lemur feet and there was some suggestion that Kam-ach-ee's mother, Kam-ach-eemum, had "played the field a bit during the day". After all, with her husband Kam-ouch-eedada, being a possum who could sleep through anything during the day, there were plenty of opportunities for a frolic in the forest.

Verily, one fine morning in the summer of thirty-two thousand toucans (a toucan was a unit of time slightly longer than about five months today). The bears decided to take a walk while their porridge settled. This was far from traditional, but the forest of Stickywick in the valley of Beardul had some lovely mines which were oft full of pre-cut jewels, left over from the occupation of the great winged chuawas in the twenty second thousanth toucan.

While the bears were out in the forest, a young girl of a mere one hundred and fifty years came skipping through the forest singing a song about the trees;

I'm a tree - see
Tee hee hee - hee
See my trunk - skunk
Don't squirt your spunk - punk
I hate skunk rain - pain
I'm not a drain - again
So don't leave a bark - mark
In my nice park - shark
Else I crush-you - mush you
In the underbrush-you fu…

She trailed off as she approached the bearmull. She really was feeling quite hungry and tired. Not that she was starved in any way, for her father shak-ma-bulz was the king of the neighbouring county of Percydom, known to the bears as eek-a-leek, which means place where the old farts dwell and her father fed her well. Actually, her father wasn't the king, but was simply the shakamar, or seat-warmer for the last king who had been consumed by a dragon in the winter of the twenty-ninth thousanth toucan, but who had left a note saying that he would be back, even if he was a little late.

So it was that the girl approached the Eenui, the door to Sam, with a little hunger due to her long walk from Percydom, after all, she had missed both second and third breakfast, and did not want to miss fourth. For a while she puzzled over the fhairnot, the sigil for the society of bears, but she did not notice the bear print on Eenui, as it had faded somewhat during the snows of the previous winter. She had no idea that she had in fact reached a bearmull. Crushing her hairless fingers into a small fist, she rapped hardily on Eenui. "hello" she said, "Is anyone at home, for it is I Goldilocks, from the nearby county of Percydom". Indeed her name really was Goldilocks, so named by her mother because her hair was the colour of spun gold though equally, she could have been called strawlocks, or even hay-head.

When there seemed to be no answer, she gave Eenui a small shove and to her surprise it opened to let her into the bearmull. With some trepidation, she stepped lightly into Sam.


Verily, the three bears reached the mines of fflainnuf and lo, they found such jewels and craftiness as was their wont, and they rejoiced in their good fortune. But within those cavernous mines there lay a an evil secret enmeshed in sticky webs, for Billy-Bob, daughter of Shelob hungrily awaited the blood of bears in her lair, with poison dripping from her sharp black fangs. Of course, we could spend the first half of the second part of this story discussing bears and spiders instead of following the story that you really want to read, for I'm sure you are eager to get back to the story of Goldilocks and Sam. So, rest assured, the bears did escape from those dark caverns carrying some, though not all of the jewels that they so desired, for several giant and friendly eagles who had been lunching with the bats of the mine, were eager to help out. For it is a sorry time indeed when an eagle cannot help a bear in trouble.

The first thing Goldilocks saw as she entered Sam were three steaming bowls of porridge. She picked up Averil, "porridge scooper" and stuck it into the first bowl. Averil let out a cry of "out, that is really really hot!" and Goldilocks was quite amazed, "I"ve ne"er heard a spoon talking before, how long have you been doing that?". Well, for a while Averil was silent, after all, it is quite insulting to be referred to as a simple spoon, especially if one is made of silver from the dwarvish mines of Nanir. But then Averil realised that here was someone who would be happy to converse, where the bears instead simply preferred to stick him in their mouths and their porridges. 'my name is Averil, but you may call me Pernicous-Eenouh, and I have been able to talk since I was a teaspoon". "You my dear", he continued are a very questioning young lady. I shall have to call you QueryGirl, and Chatterbox shall be thy name".

Well, Goldilocks had heard quite enough and was about to put the spoon down, but Averil, sensing that he was about to go back on the table quickly asked, 'tell me, have you seen the spoonwives?". 'spoonwives?", puzzled Goldilocks, "what are they?". Averil sighed, "Upon a time, long ago, back when I was called pooper-scooper, it seemed that all the world knew of the plight of the spoonwives, but now the legend has been forgotten and I shall have to tell it in full. It is a long tale in the telling, and will require many chapters", he said. "How about just giving me the highlights", said Goldilocks, in an exasperated tone, after all, she was very hungry and didn't want to waste too much time talking to cutlery. "Well", began Averil, "you know how the knives and forks go together on the table, and the salt and the pepper go together too, and then there's the milk and the sugar, and the left and right candles?", Goldilocks nodded, beginning to see where this one was heading, "well", said Averil, 'there is no partner for the spoons is there?". "Hmm", thought Goldilocks, applying all of her inconsiderable mental powers to the problem, for after all, she truly was a Goldilocks, "what about those little forky things?". "Ooh", said Averil, 'thou art truly wondrous and wise, I shall call thee fork-finder". "erm, have you got any?", he asked in a tone that could only be described as horny. "Do I look like the kind of girl that carries desert forks around in my pocket?". Averil looked at her, "well, you are quite plump and look as if you like desert, I suppose I"ll have to call you fat-almost-fork-finder then". Averil's last words turned into a scream as Goldilocks dropped him entirely into the hot porridge. "Damn spoon", she muttered.

Goldilocks grabbed a different spoon and quickly, before it could start talking, shoved it into the second bowl of porridge and then into her mouth. She immediately regretted it, for the porridge was stone cold. She tentatively tasted the porridge in the third bowl, and found it to be edible, so she greedily ate the lot.

Now Goldilocks decided to rest, for she was feeling well fed and tired upon her feet. She looked and saw three great chairs, they were named Manwi, Mannering and Mesil and had been carved from great chunks of Mistralis and Boine, once two of the mightiest trees in the forest of Stickywood. Carved figures of beasts and birds ran up their arms and fought and crawled in some great battle across their backs. And thus it was that in her wilful self-pride, Goldilocks elected to try out the largest and mightiest of these chairs and found it wanting, for it was much too hard, and the great arms covered in carven figures were much too high for her to reach. The chair was altogether, quite unsuitable.

At length, she decided to venture forth to Mannering, which in Bearease, means "cushion of jelly". But as she sat down, she knew that she had made a great error of judgement, for far from being a comfortable seat, Mannering was akin to sitting in a large mound of rather wobbly jelly and the cushion enfolded her completely, almost threatening to swallow her whole.

It was therefore with great trepadiation that she approached the third and smallest of the chairs, Mesil, for her traumatic experience with the furniture in this dwelling thus far had left her in a rather cautious state. Of course, she had no idea of how much worse the furniture situation would become, for if she had, she would most likely have left the bearmull by the fastest means possible, and we would have not story, or at least a much abbreviated one.

So it was that Goldilocks seated herself upon the final chair and found it extremely comfortable, and not at all like those nasty nasty experiences on the other chairs. Naturally, having just eaten a large bowl of porridge, she began to drift off into a blissful sleep. Her sleep was rudely interrupted by a sharp crack and she was tossed to the floor as Mesil exploded into small slivers of wood. She looked at the scattered pieces and cried, "alas, for I have broken beyond repair the only seat of any worth in this dwelling, this day may be forever cursed". In this, of course, she was mistaken, for this was Mesil and its name was Mirthdul and the pieces of shattered wood were mirthdulbits from Mirthdul, the chair that will be broken but will be mended again and then renamed so it doesn't have to be fixed anymore.

And Goldilocks, still quite drowsy from her almost-nap, wandered upstairs and found three beds, Jensin, Jemina and Jacen they were called, and they were carved from the wood of other, far greater beds, whose owners no longer slept, but rather lay in the dreamless sleep of ages.

You would think, of course, that Goldilocks would realise that of all the beds, Jacen would most likely be the most comfortable, since it obviously had the same owner as the chair she so liked. But alas, the evil in her heart held sway and in her pride, she chose the mightiest and grandest of the beds, and she was rewarded with a hardness, the likes of which she had ne"er felt before. For the mattress had been carved from a block of solid bovarian granite by the dwarven masons of the abandoned black mine of Nanir.

Goldilocks then tried the second bed, but as she flipped the covers back, the room was filled with a layer of choking, suffocating dust. Clearly Willy had not seen much action in this bed. So again, she was left with only once choice of furniture, Jacen, the smallest bed. She was almost afraid to sleep in it, lest it collapse like the chair downstairs, but then as sleep began to overtake her, she climbed upon the bed and quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.


Verily the bears returned to Sam, tired and sore-footed, but laden with fabulous pre-cut jewels and treasures from the floor of the mine. Their stomaches rumbled, for it was well after second breakfast and they had not yet had their porridge. Upon entering Sam, Fred rushed to the table but as he looked for Averil, he noticed the mess of his porridge. "Hey", he cried, 'someone has been eating my porridge". He began to look around as if seeking someone to blame.

Amandaline looked about too, and saw the great gobs of spat-out cold porridge dripping down their twenty-eighth thousand toucan wallpaper. A gift from the silly wizards of the south. Naturally, it affected her house-proud sensibilities and she was quick to see the bowl from whence the mess had come. 'someone has been eating my porridge, and has spat it out everywhere", she gasped.

"Oh, so you think you"ve got problems", said a small furry voice to their left. 'someone has been eating my porridge and has eaten it all up", said Furface. Mama bear considered this and suggested 'maybe I can make some more". But before they could reply, baby bear let out a shriek as he espied the pile of mirthdulbits. 'my chair, my chair, oh my beautiful chair. Some villain has caused it grevious harm". Mama bear was sad, and she said, "I think a nice bowl of porridge would help us to deal with this tragedy", and she used that as an excuse to escape the trauma into the kitchen.

Papa bear turned to Furface and saw his grief was great and a feeling of good will came upon his bear heart. "Don't worry son, I know how we can fix this" he said. "Nothing that some glue and string and honey wont fix", and so saying he set to work on the mirthdulbits.

Amandaline finished making her porridge. Fred's porridge was heated on a hot fire and served directly from the flame, Almost-Birthday Bear's porridge was allowed to cool a little first, and her own porridge, well, she never ever bothered to heat that one at all. As she brought the porridges, and some new spoons, over and placed then upon Whendil the ancient oaken table that had once belonged to her great aunt, she saw baby bear sitting upon his newly mended chair. "Oh Furface", she cried, 'thou art truly wondrous, for thou art seated upon Mirthdul, the chair that was broken but has been mended again!". But baby bear replied "nay mother, stay thy voice, and kneel not before me, for it is unbecoming, and it is silly. There is far more to the prophecy of the one who will bring balance to the woods, and even if you do believe that it is this boy, the prophecy has yet to be fulfilled". Then baby bear spake saying "behold for I am seated upon Paffernicious, the chair that will not be mended if it breaks again, but will go out with the rubbish instead.

And lo, Mama bear conceded and reluctantly ceased to worship her son, and ignoring the poignant stares from Fred, they began to consume their porridge. Well, they may have continued to eat their porridge until their bowls were empty and their bellies were full, were it not for the sound of a yawn from upstairs. Immediately, they ceased their snacking, and hurried upstairs to see what all of the fuss was about.

"Well", said Fred, looking at the stone slab on Jensin, "I don't think anyone has been sleeping in my bed, nay ... I don't think my bed has seen anyone besides myself in it for a long, long time. Ignoring the malice behind Fred's words, Amandaline examined the rumpled sheets of her own bed, and sniffed at the cloud of dust hovering above it. "Oh dear", she said, 'someone has certainly been in my bed and look, they have made quite a mess. Willy most certainly will have a job here". "Anytime bearby", muttered Fred under his breath.

"Gee, you think you guys have got trouble", said a small furry voice from the other end of the room, "I"ve got a girl in my bed". Then Papa bear came over to see the girl in Jacen, and said "good work son, I think we have our intruder".

Just then, Goldilocks awoke from her sleep to find herself surrounded by large bears. Instinctively, she ducked under the covers to hide. 'she's gone", exclaimed Papa bear, "how could she simply disappear like that? She must have majiks of which we are not aware". Puzzled by this strange turn of events, Goldilocks peeked out of the doona cover. 'there she is, get her!" shouted Papa bear. But Goldilocks quickly pulled her head back under the covers and she heard Papa bear say 'sooth, for our intruder hath disappeared once more".

"Find her", Goldilocks heard the gravelly voice of the largest bear say, "Find the one who tasted our porridge, who broke our chair and who slept in our beds, one bear to sniff her, one bear to find her, one bear to beat her and in the darkness bind her". Goldilocks was terrified of course, and fearing that she would soon be discovered if she stayed in her hiding place, she wrapped the doona cover tightly about her person, and leapt out of the window. "Dad!", said baby bear, 'my doona cover just jumped out of the window, I"ll have to go and get it", But papa bear held him back, "nay, stay thy hand, for we must search this room for the girl possessed of strange magiks".

Of course, baby bear had some idea of what might have happened, but he didn't think that his father would understand. Instead, he said "I must go now, it is time for me to fulfil my destiny". But Amandaline clung to him, "pray, take me with you son, for I desire not to be a porridge-maiden". But baby bear's heart was saddened and he said, 'mother, you bring the gift of porridge to all bears, and you provide a far greater service in the creation of porridge than you could were you to follow me on my dreadful journey. Stay here, and make more porridge for father".

And so saying, he grabbed a sheet from the bed, ran across it and leaped from the window. Mama bear and Papa bear hugged eachother, and were sad, for they knew that Furface was lost to them, for he had taken the paths of the bed.

As baby bear leapt from the window, wrapped in a sheet, having taken the fearful paths of the bed, still he did not fear for he knew that should a problem of insurmountable odds appear on the way down, then chick-a-dee, the lord of the eagles would quickly appear to fly him to safety, like a giant feathery cop-out from above.

Thus baby bear quickly caught up with Goldilocks on the ground just outside the house and he asked, "why didst though break Paffernicious, who was called Mirthdul, into mirthdulbits?", but Goldilocks craftily replied, "it was not I that broke your preciouss, preciouss chair, but the evil and glutinous, heavy porridge within me". Baby bear was satisified with this, and replied, "I forgive you for that, but please give me my preciouss doona, me wants it and it is mine, I tell you, all mine". Goldilocks tightened her grip upon the doona and said, "nay, you must look after your preciouss, and thus you must look after me, for I am wrapped within it.". She held it taunt between her hands and spake, "I will rip it into pieces "ere you try to take it from me". Baby bear threw a tantrum… "but I wantss it, I needs it, I will give you nice fishhhhhh if you give me doona, be not nasty girl, give poor baby bear his doona". But Goldilocks said, "nay, for you have been wrapped in that doona for far too long and it has poisoned your mind with its influence. I will not give it for a fish, no, not for a dish, not in a box, and not with a fox, I will not give it here or there, I will not give it anywhere".

Suddenly, the windows of the bearmull slammed open and Fred angrily looked out. "Give that doona back you accursed girl!" he shouted. But Goldilocks held the doona aloft shouting "If you want it, come and claim it", and lo, father bear was furious and threw a heavy object at them. It landed at their feet and Goldilocks looked at it. It was a bowl of porridge.

Goldilocks bent down and picked up the bowl. She looked at it and screamed, for there were eyes in the bottom of it blinking back at her. Baby bear snatched it off her and said "alas, that you reached the bowl before me and that I was not quick enough to get my father's bowl, for you have seen the evil within, and it has addled your mind.

"Addled indeed", said a pesky voice from within the bowl. It was Averil, the spoon, still covered in dabs of porridge, "now please, be a good little girl and return that doona to the bears so we can all get on with it…", he said, in the nicest and calmest voice possible. Goldilocks was so overcome by the silvery tones (for he was a silver spoon), that she began to move to obey. Suddenly, baby bear pushed her back and held Averil aloft, "hold wormtongue, speak not your lies and deceits to us, for we are not to be overcome by your persuasons. Go back to your master and trouble us no more". So saying, he threw Averil back at the window, and it hit his father on the nose, making him very angry indeed.

He turned to Goldilocks and spake, "no wonder my father is so troubled, if he has been looking at this porridge, for if one stares too long into a porridge, then the porridge stares back into you. Of course", he said, 'that doesn't affect me, for I'm smarter than the average bear". I should look, and thus reveal my power to my father. Then, to Goldilock's dismay, baby bear then began to study the small wet grey-brown lumps of porridge intently.

He had not studied long when the door of the bearmull was thrown wide open and papa bear came storming out, like an angry bear, which of course, he was. He had a spoon up his nose and was intending to take the doona back by force as he took great strides towards baby bear and Goldilocks.

But before he could reach them, every character who has appeared at any point in this story, came rushing out to fill the space between them. There was mama bear waving her willy about and most of the other bears in the valley of Beardul. There were the phoenix brothers, uncle Marvin, and his parents Elvin and Alvin. There was baby bear's grandfather, Kam-ach-ee and his parents, Kam-ach-eemum and Kam-ouch-eedada, though being a possum, he was asleep, and there was a lemur, who could only have been Kam-ach-ee's real father.

Many of the trees of the forest of Stickywick had also uprooted themselves and come to the battle and even the great winged chuawas from the twenty second thousanth toucan had somehow escaped extinction to be present.

But papa bear was not alone, for Billy-Bob, and her mother Shelob had come for the doona too, and they were surrounded by a fog of black and blinking bats from the mines.

And lo, from over the hill came a metallic marching sound as hundreds of tiny forks scurried across the landscape. Averil quickly leapt from papa bears nose, for he was not going to miss the spoonwives for anything, and thus he left the battle, never to be seen again.

And as the two great armies clashed on the battlefield, the eagles took all of the bats out to lunch, but this time, to be supped on, instead of with. And the bats, could not stand against the might of the eagles, for the eagles were faster, larger and hungrier. The eagles had sharp claws and beaks becasuse they often ate meat and while the bats may have had a fighting chance against a hoarde of fruit, they were not match for the winged death. Especially not in daylight when they were blind.

Billy-bob and Shelob were a very different story, and it took the strength of all the bears to hold them back. Shelob was quickly subdued due to her previous wounds but Billy-bob fought back and managed to hold off the bears long enough for papa bear to reach the doona. On reaching the doona, papa bear tried to rip it from Goldilocks, but the doona was held fast by the combined efforts of Goldilocks, baby bear, a lemur and a half-asleep possum.

Suddenly, with a sickening sound, the doona ripped, and feathers flew everywhere. Papa bear fell backwards holding his corner, and slipped under the dripping fangs of Billy-bob who, not knowing one bear from another, especially under a rain of feathers, quickly poisoned the life out of him. Seeing Billy-bob's fangs otherwise engaged, the other bears quickly subdued her, and while many were lost, after much stomping and many really, really sore feet, the giant spider was reduced to mush.

In the aftermath, there was much mopping up, and Goldilocks was sad, for everyone else, except her father, shak-ma-bulz, the sort-of king of Percydom. Don't worry, said baby bear, for we will pay him a visit. The shakamars have warmed their last seat for I am the rightful bear-heir of eek-a-leek, and I have a kingdom to claim.

And so saying, they left for the next county, singing songs and joking and playing games as they went. 'so", said baby bear "what have I got in my pockettses?". Goldilocks had a feel, but couldn't tell, "I don't know", she said, "it feels neither hard nor soft, but… oh wait", she smiled, "you don't have any pockets do you?"


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