Bad Press

  “It just ain’t fair.” The big bad wolf slammed his paw down on the desk. “I’m a decent geezer but everybody hates me.”

“Wolfy, Wolfy, don’t worry babe.” The press agent gave him a broad grin. “ Listen, being unpopular can be really good for your career. Look at my most successful clients.”

“And who are they exactly?” The wolf eyed him sceptically

“Noel Edmonds, Peter Mandelson, Anthea Turner. I even took on Simon Cowell for a time but that was too big a job, even for me

“Hmm, I’m impressed.” The wolf smiled.

“I’m sure we can turn things around for you, BB baby. Now let’s see. What do we have here?” The agent opened the dossier in front of him and took out a clipping from the News of The World.

“WOLF ATE MY GRANDMOTHER.” The headline read.

“Lies, damn lies,” growled the wolf. “I ain’t even been to that forest. If you ask me the wood cutter and old goody two shoes were after granny’s money all along”

“O.K, O.K babe we can work with this. What about this one from Aesop’s Gazette; ‘WOLF EATS BOY AT LAST.’

“Do me a favour. Scrawny shepherd boys just ain’t my style. Anyway ‘ed been shoutin ‘is mouth off for weeks about wolves, just cos he was bored. I fink those villagers wanted to teach him a lesson”

“Love it, love it. Conspiracy theories, people just lap them up. Now what about this business with the three little pigs?”

“Ah yes, well that was me” The wolf admitted.

“It was?” The agent’s smile faded slightly.

“Yeah, I was working for the council at the time and those pigs had no right to be there. No planning permission or anyfing”

“So you ate them?”

“Na, course not. The press got ‘old of it and blew it all out of proportion. Nobody got eaten and I was the one who ended up with a scalded backside.”

“Well Wolfy babe,” The agent was visibly relieved. “I think your career is on the up. We’ll work with the caring, sharing ‘sheep in wolf’s clothing’ angle. What do ya think?”

“Yeah I like it. Carin’, sharin’ that’s me.”

I’m sure glad you came to me BB baby. I don’t think your last agent made the most of your assets. When you’re up there with the big boys, I’m sure he’ll regret that.”

“He probably already does.” Smiled the wolf, remembering how much English mustard had improved his flavour.



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