Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Fee Fi Fo Fum!

There were two primary problems in my life. While you might think they were minor issues, I assure you, they were quite significant to me. The first of my problems was this: my mother was impossible to please. Nothing I ever did satisfied her. Last week, for instance, she sent me to market to sell our cow. Along the way I met a man who offered me five magic beans in exchange for the animal.

Magic beans, I tell you!

But was mother impressed? No! She simply threw them out the window and gave me the most severe scolding of my life. When the beans grew into a giant beanstalk, even that didn't satisfy her. She just said, "Well, can we milk it? Can we buy food with it? I don't think so."

There's just no pleasing her.

The other major issue in my life is this: giants are lousy poets. I discovered this after climbing the magic beanstalk and stealing the giant's golden goose. There is not much in this life more disconcerting than racing through a castle while being chased by a giant, but one thing that is worse is being chased by a giant who is repeatedly screaming:

Fee Fi Fo Fum!
I smell the blood of an Englishman!

I'm not much of a poet myself, but even I know that it would have to be Fee Fi Fo Fan to rhyme with Englishman! For some reason, however, I could not gather together enough courage to stop and explain this to the giant.

Later in the day, as I sat in my room, petting my golden goose, I was reminded of that old adage about killing two birds with one stone. While I had no intention of killing my goose, it occurred to me that, with one simple action on my part, I could solve both of my major life problems.

"Mother," I called out.

"What?" she snapped back with that nasty, impatient tone of voice.

"When I was up in the giant's castle, I found a magic potion that'll keep a woman young and beautiful forever!"

"Did you bring it down?"

"No."

"Well go get it, then!"

"Go get it yourself, mother."

Now I sit here all alone in peace and quiet, enjoying my golden eggs. Well, it's not entirely quiet. Far above my head I hear the faint screams of a terrified woman, accompanied by a rumbling bass voice that declares:

Fee Fi Fo Fum!
I smell the blood of an English Mum!

Ah, music to my ears.

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