The Little Red Hen Redux

One bright, sun-shiny day at the collective farm, the Little Red Hen came across some seeds of wheat on the road. “I have found some wheat grains!” exclaimed the Little Red Hen. “Who will help me plant them?”

“Not I!” said the Fat Cat. “Not I!” said the Running Dog. “Not I!” said the Bourgeois Pig. “Not I!” said the Dirty Rat. “Then I shall,” said the Little Red Hen. So she scratched the ground and buried the kernels. In time, they grew into tall stalks... all golden and fine. “Who will help me cut and thresh the wheat?” asked the Little Red Hen. “Not I!” said the Fat Cat. “Not I!” said the Running Dog. “Not I!” said the Bourgeois Pig. “Not I!” said the Dirty Rat. “Then I shall,” said the Little Red Hen. So she cut the stems with her beak and threshed and winnowed the grain with her wings. “Who will help me get this wheat milled?” asked the Little Red Hen. “Not I!” said the Fat Cat. “Not I!” said the Running Dog. “Not I!” said the Bourgeois Pig. “Not I!” said the Dirty Rat. “Then I shall,” said the Little Red Hen. So she took the wheat down the road to the Sovkhoz mill where comrade workers ground it into a fine powder. She then carried the bag of flour all the way home. “Now who will help me make the bread?” asked the Little Red Hen. “Not I!” said the Fat Cat. “Not I!” said the Running Dog. “Not I!” said the Bourgeois Pig. “Not I!” said the Dirty Rat. “Then I shall,” said the Little Red Hen. So she added water to the flour, and kneaded it with her feet. And the dry powder became a soft, pliable dough.

“I think you need to add yeast,” said the Silly Goose. “Where the hell am I going to get yeast?!” asked the Little Red Hen as she placed the dough into in a preheated (350°) oven and baked the bread for forty minutes. When the avocado-green timer went off, the Little Red Hen asked, “Now who will help me eat this delicious, unleavened bread?” “We will!” exclaimed the Fat Cat, the Running Dog, the Bourgeois Pig, and the Dirty Rat. “Nuh-uhhh!” said the Little Red Hen. “No, you shan’t!” She then put on and adjusted her colorful cloth napkin, which she had purchased just a year ago when NEP was still in place. Shortly thereafter, a couple of Checkists arrived and sat to table along with the Little Red Hen. Together, they all enjoyed her tasty baked bread. Upon leaving, they took along the useless parasites for political reëducation.~