October 4, 2024.

One day, a wicked fox stole all of the children from the village. Many of the parents were upset by this, and begged the old farmer, who was the leader of the village, to go talk to the fox and ask for their children back. The old farmer put down his pitchfork and picked up his walking cane, and for a day and night and day again climbed up the mountain to the fox’s den, as the sun was setting and the shadows were growing long. The fox met him at the entrance.

“Hello, wicked fox,” said the old farmer.

“Hello, old farmer,” said the wicked fox.

“Did you steal all of our children?” inquired the old farmer.

“Yes, that’s right,” replied the wicked fox. “I needed them for my wicked forest experiments.”

“I see,” said the old farmer. “May we please have them back?”

“No,” replied the wicked fox. “But I will give you something even better. This is a magic seed,” and upon saying this placed a small seed into the old farmer’s wizened hand, “and if you take it back to your village and plant it in the middle of the town square, and tend to it with water and sunlight, by the time it has opened its first flower, you will all have forgotten your woes, and the lives of everyone in the village will have improved tenfold. You will all have many new children and live prosperous lives you cannot even imagine.”

The old farmer accepted the seed with thanks, and walked down the mountain for a night and day and another night, and the fox returned to his wickedness.

Another day and a half later, the old farmer returned to the wicked fox’s den.

“Hello, old farmer,” said the wicked fox.

“Hello, wicked fox,” said the old farmer. “Everyone is very angry with me for taking this magic seed and leaving our children in your wicked clutches. I would like the children please.”

“Yes, that was very foolish of you,” conceded the wicked fox, taking the proffered magic seed. “I do not know why you did that.”

“I think that perhaps you placed a glamour on me, or befuddled my mind with wicked forest magic,” said the old farmer.

“No,” said the wicked fox. “You are simply somewhat stupid.”

“I see,” replied the old farmer, sullenly. “Well anyhow, may I please have the children back.”

“No,” said the wicked fox once more. “I am not done with my wicked forest experiments yet. However, I can solve your problem, which is even better. It is right that a leader be wise, and you are dim as a moonless night. Take this powder, and mix in with your evening glass of wine. Within a week you will be a wise and just leader, within a year, you will be among the wisest leaders who have ever lived, and within ten years, courts of kings and sultans will send envoys, seeking your wisdom, and you will be celebrated through time and time and time forever forward, talked about in songs and manuscripts and so forth.”

The old farmer accepted the powder with thanks, and walked down the mountain once more.

Another day and a half later, the old farmer returned for the third time to the wicked fox’s den.

“Okay. They said taking the powder was even worse than the seed. Everyone is extremely incensed with me and say that if I don’t come back with the children then I should not come back at all,” said the old farmer. His face was drawn and sallow.

“Yes,” said the wicked fox. “It was very strange that you didn’t ask questions or anything. You are pretty astoundingly uncurious about the world around you. Anyway, I have been really going to town on these village children for a pretty long time now, there’s not very many of them left. I don’t even know if you’d want the ones who are around any more.”

“I have to come back with the children,” explained the old farmer. “The villagers are really quite insistent.”

“Here’s what I’ll do for you,” said the wicked fox. “I’ll do you one better. This is a magic bucket, and whatever-”

“No no,” interrupted the old farmer. “None of that. No magic bucket, no magic seeds, no magic powder. I need to return to the village, with the children, there is no way around it.”

“Well…” conceded the wicked fox. “I guess you’re really standing your ground on this one. You’ve really talked me into a corner here. You’re a great negotiator.”

“Thank you,” said the old farmer.

The wicked fox removed a small ring from a satchel, placed it upon his finger, and gestured grandly, appearing to perform some sort of wizardry. “There you go,” said the wicked fox. “You have convinced me. The children have been returned to the village, and all is well. You should return there, and you will find the children asleep in their beds.”

The old farmer thanked the wicked fox, pleased with his cunning, and turned to the dense forest surrounding the den. “It’s all right!” he shouted. “You can come out now. The children are asleep back in the village, I have convinced the wicked fox of the errors of his ways!”

The parents from the village emerged from their hiding spots behind brush and tree, as they had followed the old farmer to the den, to observe the interaction. The baker frowned and spoke: “Old farmer, you are a dunderhead who has ruined everything, and you do not deserve to live.”

The parents from the village attacked the old farmer and hacked away at him with rather dull garden implements. It took him a long time to die, and when he did, they continued hacking, until he was mostly just a sticky red paste in the dirt in front of the den. The wicked fox watched all this impassively, and when they were done, he spoke.

“Okay, okay, point made. You can have back what’s left of your children.” He stepped aside and waved the parents inside the den. “Feel free to take any pieces of them you find along the way, I don’t need them any more.”

And so, this story is concluded.

Do not trust a wicked fox, even if he offers you powders or seeds, it will get you painfully hacked to death by dull garden implements.