Trabalho de Produção Oral e Escrita em Língua Inglesa

A faculdade como um todo tomou muito do meu tempo e do meu ânimo pra ter saco para fazer qualquer coisa útil, entretanto nunca tirou a minha vontade de trollar, sacanear ou aproveitar de um tema para abusar da ridícula criatividade da qual sou dotado.

Tendo uma disciplina como essa, tive a oportunidade de fazer uma propaganda sobre Rapist Glasses em vídeo e escrever um conto de fadas porque a professora é uma não-vencedora que passa seu tempo de divorciada fora da faculdade assistindo filmes de comédia romantica ou romances baratos, como o filme da cinderela ou sei lá o quê, como ela é dotada de uma criatividade profundamente não grande, ela nos deu como trabalho final escrever um conto de fadas em inglês, qualquer conto. Deixo aqui a minha obra prima, um pouco inspirada em Monty Python.

Segue o quote com o arquivo como foi impresso para entregar a ela:

Little Red Riding Hood, as told by Montgomery Solidified Snake

Once upon a “the inevitable progression into the future with the passing of present events into the past”, also known as “time”, there was little house in a dark forest. In this house, lived a humble woodcutter and his wife, both were feeble and  apparently anemic, and their daughter.

The couple were weak due to unknown causes, possibly some sort of genetic disease, however their daughter was seven feet tall, had long and strong arms, long and strong legs, her bosom barely developed, and strangely, on her face, grew a most uncommon and large bulky sort of hair, that resembled that of the most gruesome and uncivilized Vikings, barbarians and lumberjacks. While the woodcutter and his wife could barely saw or chop some firewood per day, their daughter – Little Red Riding Hood – could amazingly break whole logs with her knees, ground colossal trees with mere punches and gnaw rocks, iron and trees to suit her needs.

And in the middle of this deep dark forest, there lived a vicious wolf of the Canis lupus familiaris species.

One day Little Red Riding Hood set off to take some grilled beef and toasted deer meat to her grandmother, who lived deep in the forest, while going to her grandmother’s house, she spent her time not singing, leaping and whistling, but punching and kicking trees, and gwnawing at the occasional bear, for it was a peaceful forest. After some time Little Red Riding Hood had to wipe her nose on a log, she was unpleasantly surprised at the possibility of having catched a cold.

The vicious and voracious wolf saw Little Red Riding Hood and thought “She looks very good to eat!”, ran towards her, stopped at her feet, looking upwards to her tall bearded face and asked “Where are you going, my pretty one?” with a tenacious and famished voice.

“Oh, kind sir, to my grandmother’s!” replied her, with the sweetest voice of an angel.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” cried the wolf and dashed off through the forest, towards the grandmother’s house.

Arriving at the grandmother’s house, a little wood house with smoke coming out of the chimney,  the wolf with great subterfuge circled and sniffed through the house, trying to scare the poor grandmother.

“Knock-knock-knock!” went the wicked wolf. The door opened wide, but it wasn’t grandmother who opened it, it was Buzz Aldrin, America’s number two spaceman, for this was not grandmother’s little house at all, but the headquarters of NASA, the americans space research agency. The wicked wolf was shot by security guards while Buzz Aldrin placed the flag of the United States of America on its corpse. So all was quiet in the forest again.

The humble woodcutter and hist wife sold their story to Warner Brothers for forty two thousand dollars and their daughter to a suspicious Russian entrepreneur for twenty thousand liters of vodka and some potatoes. NASA agreed to limit the number of nuclear tests in granny’s little house to two on Thursdays and one on Saturdays, after tea. With the money the humble woodcutter bought a Porsche and drove it through a bus station after drinking four kegs of vodka and died on his way to the hospital, his wife dropped a lantern on the wooden floor of their house, after spilling a keg of vodka, her burned corpse was later recovered by some C.I.A. agents and never heard from again.