Rumpelstiltskin: as told by Wee Granny Bella

RumpelstiltskinOnce upon a time, long ago, there wis this old woman who lived in an old cottage, wi’ her beautiful daughter. One day the young king wis oot riding by the cottage an’ he met the old woman. She wis thinkin’ he might want tae marry her daughter, so she accosted him by playin’ chicken wi’ the horse.

‘Excuse me yer Majesty,’ she called fae the middle o’ the road, ‘wid ye like tae marry ma daughter Rose, she’s awfie talented. She can spin straw intae gold.’

Noo, tae say this wis a wee fib wid be a slight understatement, so it wid. But the king wisnae daft, an’ he didnae believe her.

‘Get oot ma way ya stupit auld git,’ says he.

‘A’m no kiddin’, says the wuman. ‘Rose can make ye rich.’

‘A’m already rich, ya bam, A’m a king.’

‘But wid ye no like tae be even richer?’

‘Aye, Ah would,’ says he, fur he wis aye spendin’ his money in the casino. ‘Gee’s the girl the noo then.’

So he locked Rose up in a wee room full o’ straw, at the top of his castle.  He told her if she didnae make the straw intae gold by the next mornin’, she’d be deed.

‘What the fuck am Ah gonnie dae?’ thought she, greetin’ her eyes oot.

Suddenly a tiny, funny-lookin’ wee man wi’ a long grey beard appeared – aye, oot the blue, an’ asked her whit wis goin’ on.

‘A’ve tae get ma heid chopped aff in the mornin’ if Ah don’t spin aw this straw intae gold,’ says she tae him.

‘Ah can help ye wi’ that,’ says he. ‘Fur a price.’

Noo, he wisnae a sexual predator, he just wanted her necklace as payment. So she agreed, and the wee man wis up aw night spinnin’ the straw intae strands o’ gold.

‘In the name o’ the wee man!’ says she in the mornin’, when she saw all that gold.

‘Watch whit ye say in ma name,’ he warned. He had a thing aboot his name, ye see.

Well, the king wis fair delighted wi’ his stash o’ gold, so he took Rose tae a bigger room full o’ straw.

‘Same thing,’ says he, fur he wis a greedy bastard.

Once again the funny wee man appeared. ‘Whit’ll ye gee me this time, fur ma trouble?’ he asked Rose.

‘A’ll gee ye ma ring,’ says she.

‘Aye awright then,’ says the funny wee man.

He had tae work fast wi’ aw that straw tae spin – the spinnin’ wheel wis burlin’ faster than a manic pirouette.  The next mornin’ the wee man wis gone an’ the room was full o’ gold thread. Well, the king wis pure hyper wi’ excitement, and telt Rose that if she could do the same wi’ an ever bigger room piled tae the ceilin’ wi’ straw, he’d marry her. If no, her heid wis comin’ aff.

Noo, poor Rose wis fair demented wi worry, cos she didnae huv anythin’ else tae give the wee man if he wur tae come tae her rescue again. And sure enough, he appeared.

‘A’ll tell ye what,’ said he, ‘since you’ve nae jewelery left, ye can gee me yer first wean instead.’

‘Aye awright,’ says she.

So the funny wee man spun aw the straw intae gold, an’ the king married Rose. A year later she gave birth tae a baby boy. It wis nearly a happy ever after situation here, but she’d forgot aboot geeing the wean tae the funny wee man. And sure enough, back he came, like a pesty dug bringin’ back a druchit tennis ball when ye’d flung it like a jet-propelled shot-putt, tae get rid of him.

‘Right then, gee’s the wean,’ says he.

‘Naw, yer no gettin’ him,’ says she. ‘Get tae fuck’, ya wee oddity.’

‘Callin’ me names noo, eh? A’m no movin’ till Ah get the wean.’

‘A’ll gee ye anythin’ else – money, jewelery, hooses – gold, tae save ye aw that spinnin’, but no the wean,’ says Rose, fair panic-stricken.

‘Well, the wee man felt sorry fur her when he saw how much she loved her baby. ‘Fur fuck sake, Ah must be gettin’ soft in the heid,’ says he. ‘A’ll gee ye a chance tae keep the wean. A’ll come back fur the next three nights, an’ if ye can guess ma name, ye can keep yer son. If no, A’m kidnappin’ him, awright?’

‘Aye, awright,’ says she, an’ she ordered a book o’ celebrity baby names fae Amazon, express delivery.

When the wee man appeared on the first night, she thought she wid try some normal names, fur he could be a cheatin’ wee bastard.

‘Is yer name Jimmy?’




‘Archie, Hamish, Andy, Shuggie…’ She went through hunners a’ names, but the wee man kept sayin’ naw.

On the second night, Rose wis swatted up on unusual celebrity names, fae the name book.

‘Is it Cruise-ship?’ she asked.




‘Forth Road?’


Jesus Christ…’

‘Naw, it’s no Jesus Christ. Dae ye give up?’ says he, stampin’ his foot wi’ pure temper, fur he didnae huv much patience. Mind you, A’d a’ thought he wid huv a lot o’ patience, wi’ him spinnin’ aw that straw strand by strand. A’d a taken one look at it an’ said, fuck that fur a carry on!

‘Naw, A’m no geein’ up,’ says Rose. ‘A’ve got one more night fur tae guess right.’

So early the next mornin’ Rose sent all her servants oot tae see if anybody knew this wee shite and if they knew his name. But they couldnae get any information, an’ they couldnae Google him or find him on Facebook cos they didnae huv a name tae type in. Rose wis just aboot tae give up when the last servant returned wi’ a big grin on his coupon.

‘Wait till ye hear this!’ says he, fair burstin’ tae tell Rose whit he’d discovered.

‘Ah cannie wait, A’m dyin’ tae know,’ says she.

‘Well, Ah wis ridin’ through the forest an’ whit dae ye think Ah saw?’

‘Ye’ll no see fuck all else if ye don’t hurry up an’ tell me!’ shouts Rose.

‘Aw right then, hawd oan, A’m jist getting’ tae the good bit…’

Rose went pure red in the face. ‘Tell me the noo or A’ll huv yer heid chopped aff.’

‘Then A’ll no be able tae tell ye!’

‘Fur fuck sake, just get on wi’ it!’ says she, fair foamin’ at the mooth.

‘Well, Ah seen this strange wee guy wi’ a long grey beard, dancin’ roon a fire, singin’ a song. But Ah don’t ken the song. A’ve never heard that song before, but it hud a nice wee tune.’

‘Aaarrrgh! Tell me the words, ya twit.’

‘Noo, if Ah can remember them…’

‘A’m gonnie kill ye…’

‘Och aye, Ah remember noo,’ says the servant.

‘Today I brew, tomorrow I bake. Next day, Queen Rose’s baby I’ll take.

So I solemnly swear by the hair on my chin, that the name I was given is


Well, Rose wis totally overjoyed.  That night, when the wee man appeared for the last time, she said,

‘Is yer name John?’

‘Naw,’ says he, laughin’ wi’ a big cheesy grin.



‘Droopdick Smellybottom Bawbag?’


‘Is it… Rumpelstiltskin?’

Well, the wee man went intae such a pure mental rage that he instantaneously combusted, and disappeared in a puff o’ smoke.

Noo, I’d like tae tell you that they all lived happily ever after, but that just disnae happen. The servant got his heid chopped aff fur bein’ so annoying, the king gambled aw the gold thread at the casino, and lost the lot. Queen Rose and her maw were locked in a court battle tae see who wis the meanest; she fur no geein’ her maw any of the gold she’d managed tae spin, albeit wi’ a wee bit o’ help, and the maw fur geein’ her away in the first place. And Prince Harpoon 747 ran away fae home cos he didnae like the name his mother picked oot the celebrity baby name book.



Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


Solve : *
12 × 19 =