Stories in this article compiled by DUM Undersecretary of Fatal Fallacies, Ella G. Hillbilly, These tales have been written for all the children in our glorious MAGAland. Once these would have been called fairy tales, but with current anti-LGBTQ sentiments deeply in place, these will now just be called tales. It is hoped that this collection will instill in our children the values and beliefs of our wonderful leader of MAGAland.

The Three Billy Goats Druff

Once upon a time in MAGAland, there lived three goats with bad cases of dandruff called the Billy Goats Druff. The three frolicked and played in the large meadow, eating the green grass and doing all the things goats are supposed to do.

One day, their meadow had dried up and the summer sun poured down on them. They needed to go some place where the grass was still green and they could eat and frolic about. But that meant they would have to cross a bridge that spanned over a raging river, much too dangerous to swim across.

As they got to the edge of the bridge, a huuuge, angry troll appeared before them. “What do you flakey furred little creeps want?”

“We just want to cross the bridge, kind sir,” they said.

“Well, worthless pieces of excrement like you wouldn’t know a bridge from a bicycle,” said the Troll. “You’re the stupidest goats I’ve ever seen. I bet your mother rued the day you were born. Aren’t you illegal immigrants? I hear you eat glass bottles and tin cans. Don’t you ever take a bath? Haven’t you ever heard of shampoo?”

The three goats trembled and shook. “Please just let us cross over, sir.”

“That will cost you dearly,” said the Troll. “I doubt poor goats like you could pony up the cash without committing a crime. Are you gang members? You have the same tattoos on your ears. A sign of criminal activity, I say. I hear you are living in squalor and enjoy it. Pieces of garbage like you demented animals should be placed into cages and left to rot. I believe there are farmers out there who would pay me a lot of money for your hides. They say goat meat is delicious. I wouldn’t know. But I’ve heard people say that.”

The three goats were very frightened by the Troll, but asked once more. “Please, sir, let us go over your bridge for we are starving in our dried-up field.”

“I’m quite sure that was Biden’s fault,” said the Troll. “But you voted for him, so I have no pity for the likes of you stupid goats. I’ve heard goats carry rabies, whatever that is. Maybe we should inject you with bleach to kill off the germs? Your repeated nasty requests are not part of my agenda. Go back to your shit-hole field and leave us alone. I’ve been told by numerous sources that goats come into our fields with the aim of committing crimes and raping our fine girls. We should arrest you all and make examples of your horrible acts of violence. I’m calling up the border pa-Trolls to place you into a prison before you get deported.”

“You know, brothers,” said the first goat. “It’s just not worth it facing Troll. We are much better off starving to death.”

The goats all agreed and returned to their parched field. They died shortly after their return.

The Troll lived happily ever after.

The End

The Golden Goose

Once upon a time in MAGAland, there lived a poor white man who could barely feed his family. He worked hard every day on his little farm, but still could not find enough money to pay for all the things his family would need.

One day, he found a magic crypto-coin in the dust surrounding his ramshackle farm house. As he picked it up, he wished for some way to get out of his poverty. The coin evaporated and there appeared a gold-colored goose. The man grabbed the goose and ran to the chopping block to kill it to feed his hungry family.

“Don’t kill me,” cried the Goose. “For I am magical and can lay golden eggs.”

The man was amazed that a goose could talk, so he placed his axe on the ground and said, “Show me.”

The goose grunted and pushed. In a minute or so, sure enough, out popped a solid gold egg. The man thanked the goose. He later sold the egg to pay off the farm mortgage and buy some food. But the money soon ran out.

“Lay me another egg,” said the man.

The goose grunted and pushed and out popped another golden egg. The farmer used this one to remodel his farmhouse and purchase the farm equipment he desperately needed to keep his farm going. But soon that money ran out, too.

“Lay another one.” The goose complied and the farmer used those proceed to buy fancy clothes for himself and his wife. He bought expensive furniture for his beautiful big home. He bought his wife fine jewelry. And soon this money was gone.

“Lay me a whole bunch of eggs, you stupid goose.” The goose pushed and pushed, popping out three golden eggs. But the goose was exhausted and collapsed.

“I want more!” The goose tried as hard as she could, but could only make two more eggs. After that, the goose died.

The farmer mourned the goose, but cooked it up to feed his family.

“Why waste a perfectly good goose?” he asked.

The farmer used one of the golden eggs to buy a special dinner with the Great Man who was the Wolf King of MAGAland. But he still had four more golden eggs and was now one of the wealthiest people in the kingdom.

He spoke with the king at this meal, offering his support to all sorts of unsavory policies the King wished to pursue. After the meal, the King appointed him to be the head of the Royal Forest. A nice job. Lots of perks.

The man lived happily ever after.

The End.

Little Red Lying Hood

Once upon a time in MAGAland, there lived a little blond haired girl who always wore a MAGA red hoodie. She had a horrible habit of lying each-and-every time she would open her little mouth. Soon everyone was calling her Little Red Lying Hood or Lying Hood for short.

Whenever she was asked to do something for her parents, she would lie and make up a flimsy excuse. Once, when she was asked to take out the trash, she told her parents she could not do so because a scary immigrant gang member was out there waiting to ravage her little body. Another time, when asked to wash the dishes, she said that alien beasts were living in the sink and they wanted to eat her and spit out her bones.

This went on and on. After many years, she was quite adept at making up stories and her parents no longer believed anything she spewed out from her oral cavity. But sometimes things do not go the way we planned. One day, Lying Hood’s grandmother took ill and her parents asked the girl to carry a basket of get-well goodies through the woods to Grandma’s home.

“Do I have to?” she wined. “The forest is full of dangerous animals that could eat me up!”

“I think we’ve heard that story before, Lying Hood,” they said. “Here’s Grandma’s basket. Get your little behind on the road, right now!”

So, Lying Hood went into the forest towards Grandma’s home. Alonge the way, she met King Donald the Wolf. The Wolf King asked Lying Hood what she was carrying in her basket.

“They’re just secret plans to attack Hootie Tootie’s in Yes-Mam. You can’t touch them because you don’t have the proper clearances.”

“And who are they for?” The Wolf King could smell the baked goods and knew the little girl was lying.

“They are for the millions of troops we now have stationed on the border to protect us against immigrant invaders who would do us harm.”

“Nice come back.” The Wolf King growled and walked away. “I’ll see you later.”

Eventually, Lying Hood arrived at Grandma’s house, but saw the front door was unlocked. She cautiously approached the bed and saw the Wolf King in bed, dressed in Grandma’s night gown.

“What a beautiful head of hair you have,” she said.

“All the better to have long luxuriant showers with,” said the Wolf King.

“What large sunken eyes you have.”

“All the better to watch television late at night with.”

“And what big teeth you have.”

“All the better to eat you and your basket of goodies with.” Smiled the Wolf King. “But I have a better offer. Give me the goodie basket and I will make you MAGAland’s official speaker. Nice job. Good perks. You get to look pretty and lie as much as you want. You only need to make me always sound good.”

So, Little Red Lying Hood went to work for the Wolf King and lived happily ever after.

The End.

The Gingerhead Man

Once upon a time in MAGAland, there lived a baker who was famous for his pastries and cookies. He wished to have a son, but he eventually came to the realization that this was not meant to be. Or so he thought. For one day he found a magic crypto-coin left on the counter by an old orange faced man. As he picked up the coin, he wished for a son. The coin evaporated, but in its place was a lump of gingerbread cookie dough.

The baker rolled the dough out on his table and carefully cut out the shape of the young boy he so desperately wanted. The gingerbread man was laid onto a sheet and baked in his oven. After the gingerbread was fully baked, it was removed. The baker artfully placed raisins for the eyes, piped frosting for the mouth and used candy to simulate buttons on the cookie’s little body. As a finishing touch, he used a bright orange frosting for wavy hair on the head. With this final act, the gingerhead man jumped off the table and ran away.

“Run after me as fast as you can, ICE can’t catch me, I’m the gingerhead man.”

Down the block the cookie ran. An ICE agent soon appeared and noticed gingerhead’s brown color. The agent decided to arrest him and send him back to where he came from.

“Stop right there, you gingerhead man, you’re coming with me,” said the ICE agent man.

But the gingerhead man didn’t stop. He kept on running and outpaced the ICE agent. The agent called for backup and soon a contingent of agents were chasing the talking baked goods.

“Run after me as fast as you can. ICE can’t catch me, I’m the gingerhead man.”

More and more agents appeared until the gingerhead man was surrounded. He finally gave up and was taken in by the agents. They packed him up and flew him off to a prison in El Salivador.

“But I was born here in MAGAlnd,” the Gingerhead Man said. “Don’t I get my rights? I’m afraid these other prisoners are going to eat me alive!”

“So sorry,” said Warden Noem, “but habeus corpus gives us the right to send you away forever.”

And so, the brown colored gingerhead man spent his final days in an invisible jail.

Warden Noem and all of her ICE agents lived happily ever after.

The End.

The Lion and the Mouse

Once upon a time in MAGAland, there lived a tiny mouse. The mouse was a hard worker, had a loving mouse wife and mouse children and cared deeply for his little mouse family. He had a menial job in a factory and could barely afford the little mouse dolls his mouse daughters wanted. But he sacrificed going on vacations, neglected repairing his home, worked harder still and bought his mouse daughters the dolls.

One day, the Wolf King of MAGAland decided to place a huuuge, beautiful tariff on dolls, vastly increasing their cost. The poor little mouse was forced to tell his mouse daughters that they would only get two dolls instead of the thirty he was planning on buying them. Unfortunately, he still needed to work just as long to buy the two dolls as he would have to buy the thirty.

Meanwhile, there also lived a rich and powerful Lion who owned the factory where the tiny mouse worked. The Lion made a lot of money with contracts he had to produce goods for the Wolf King. The Wolf King loved the wealthy Lions so much, that he took the money from the tariffs and gave it back to the Lions as cuts in their taxes. This was intended to ‘trickle down’ to the working mice below.

The Lions were ecstatic. They used their newfound money to make capital improvements, put in robots to replace the hard-working mice and build themselves palatial estates. The poor mouse was now out of a job and had to tell his mouse daughters there would be no mouse dolls this year.

As the mouse left the factory where he once worked, he carried his tiny lunchpail and few belongings. He noticed his Lion boss seated in pain outside the factory with a small thorn sticking into a foot paw. Try as hard as he could, the Lion was unable to extract the thorn because his mighty paws were so big. The mouse dropped his pail and other things he was carrying to help the Lion. The mouse tugged very hard at the thorn and with all his might, he was able to pull it out.

The Lion was very happy. He thanked the mouse many times, picking him up and snuggling the little creature near his face. The mouse felt like the Lion needed him for the first time since he started working. But the Lion grabbed the mouse and dropped him into his massive mouth, swallowing the tiny creature in a single gulp.

The Lion lived happily ever after.

The moral is “The Biggins always eat the Littlens!”

The End.

​

The Prince and the Pea

Once upon a time in MAGAland, there lived Prince Shady. Shady was eager to find himself a beautiful wife, but he felt she must be worthy and a true princess. So, he went into town to the local furniture store and purchased twenty mattresses and a plush sofa. He vowed to sleep on the sofa until he found his perfect princess.

Shady stacked the mattresses all on one another until they were twenty high. He then placed a single dried green pea under the bottom mattress. He figured only a true princess would be sensitive enough to feel the pea under all those mattresses.

Princess after princess would come over to sleep on the mattresses. The first one tossed and turned, showing true promise, but then fell off and broke her legs. The prince rejected her because a true princess had to walk behind the prince without missing a step. And he slept on the sofa.

The next princess was an absolute beauty and slept horribly, but Prince Shady rejected her because she was only five inches tall and would therefore be difficult to have children with. He was also afraid he would roll over in his sleep a crush her. Besides, she was already married to a wealthy Jewish gnome. Again, he slept on the sofa.

The third princess slept horribly on the bed, but Prince Shady had to reject her when it was pointed out that she was a childless cat lady. The prince was furious at the princess finding service he paid lavishly for making such a stupid error. He slept on the sofa that night.

The next princess slept fine. The prince found her to be gorgeous in his sight, but even though he and his helpers removed one mattress at time, the princess slept soundly. He rejected her because she probably would have slept through sex, too. So, the prince slept on the sofa.

The last princess slept poorly on the bed, was beautiful, bright, educated and seemed perfect in every way. But she was brown and that presented a problem to MAGAland royalty. He disregarded this and married the princess anyway. For years, he slept with her on a single mattress and they had several children. And not a single cat was allowed into their castle.

But Shady was not content with his beautiful wife. He felt he needed to make up excuses for her, like obviously, she is not a white person, but I love her anyways.

Prince Shady spent quite a few nights on the sofa for that remark.

The moral is: “Stop while you’re in a bed.”

The End.

​

The Red Cap

Once upon a time in MAGAland, there lived a blond woman who wanted to wear a beautiful red cap. She would go to rallies where everyone else wore the cap, but being poor and poorly educated, could not afford to purchase one of them. She cried every night about how unfair her life was. She blamed leftwing radical leftists for being so educated and knowing how to read. She shouted out about how Jewish space lasers were causing havoc on the stock market. She said it was all Biden’s fault for her predicament. She screamed at Obama just because he was Obama.

One day while she was commiserating, she happened across a magical crypto-coin and made a wish. A genie appeared and offered to grant her wish.

“Give me a red cap,” she said.

Poof! A red cap, just like the one she always wanted, appeared before her. But before she could put it on, the Genie waved for her to wait.

“This red cap is cursed,” he said. “But you can avoid the curse if you always tell the truth. For once you tell one lie, you will be unable to remove the cap and will tell only lies forever.”

“Thank you, Genie.” And the blond woman put on the cap. “I will never tell a lie again.”

“Oops,” said the Genie. “You have just told your first lie. You are now cursed. And I’m outta here.” The Genie vanished in a puff of smoke.

And so, the woman wearing the red cap began a non-stop barrage of lies. She lied about this and lied about that. She lied about the time of day. She lied here and she lied over there. She got elected to congress based on her lies and spread her lies there as well.

She lied so many times, that her mouth began to bleed. Still, she did not stop. She told more lies and her jaw bone swelled up and ached. She could not stop her lying. What’s more, she appeared to enjoy this despite all the pain it caused.

And she lied happily ever after.

Moral: Liar, liar, is it obscene she represents Georgia District Fourteen?

The End.

The Ants and the Grasshoppers

Once upon a time in MAGAland, there lived a colony of ants. These were very socially conservative ants that worked hard, believed in building the ant economy and in making their ant religion mandatory in the ant schools. They gathered food for their needs, but always save some of their food for tough times. They had huuuge reserves of ant food placed away in strategic locations.

The Grasshoppers, on the other hand, were wealthy aristocrats that spent their money with abandon. This was okay, though, because they had so much of it. But as time went on, tough times rolled around. The grasshoppers were faced with changing their extravagant living styles or be ruined.

So, the grasshoppers begged the ants to give them all their stored food.

“You may be big,” said the ants. “But we had to work to get our food. Maybe you should, too.”

One thing about Grasshoppers, though, was that they had ways to finesse money out of unlikely sources. They figured they could try negotiating with the ants and possibly convince them to divest themselves of the food they put away.

“You may be big,” said the ants. “But only through our hard work did we achieve our goals. You should do likewise.”

So, the grasshoppers threatened to come in and take what they wanted.

“You may be big,” said the ants. “But the law is on our side. We earned this through our labors. You can’t just take it away.”

But the grasshoppers were not only wealthy, but corrupt as hell. They paid a whole load of magic crypto-coins to have a dinner with the Wolf King. They asked the Great and Powerful Wolf King how they might get something in return.

The Wolf King acknowledged their pain and suffering. He created a Big Beautiful decree that would tariff the bejeezus out of the ants and give huuuge tax breaks to the grasshoppers.

All the resources that the ants had amassed over the years were soon gone. Despite all their labors, the ants were left with nothing. The grasshoppers, however, became fabulously wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. They thanked the Wolf King and pledged to support him in anything he wanted.

Moral: When you’re wealthy, you can do whatever the heck you want.

The End.

​

The Wolf and the Bear

Once upon a time in MAGAland, there lived a Great Man named King Donald the Wolf, who was also known as the Wolf King. He ruled MAGAland powerfully, with a fist as iron as a blacksmith’s anvil. He had disdain for all the allied kingdoms, calling them weak and pathetic. But he did show admiration for the even more powerful Bear in the Rusher Kingdom.

The Bear King was a ruthless ruler, killing off rivals and threatening his peaceful neighbors with invasions to gain concessions. When they refused to bow down to him, he launched military incursions to grab their territory. He justified this by claiming the inhabitants were bears who asked to be part of his kingdom.

The Wolf King saw this and drooled. How can I be so great and feared like the Bear King? So, he made a trip to the Rusher Kingdom to speak with the Bear King.

“You are such a handsome, tall and powerful man,” said the Bear King. “You must have your kingdom already under tight control.”

“But not like you, O mighty Bear King.” The Wolf King looked at his counterpart. “I want to be as great and powerful a ruler as you. Tell me how to do this.”

“First, you must threaten to annex your neighbors,” said the Bear King. “You are so wonderful, that should be easy for you.”

“Maybe Canada? Or Greenland? Or Mexico?” mused the Wolf King.

“Next, you must silence your opposition.” The Bear King smiled. “You are so intelligent and you have a mastery of speech unlike any seen before. Use it as you will.”

“Yes!” The Wolf King said. “I will emasculate and neuter Congress, remove all non-sycophantic public servants, bully the Press into submission, assault the Universities, undermine the military, destroy our trade partnerships, debase our military alliances, break our treaties and demean and disrespect the entire judicial system.”

“Then, you must create chaos and economic turmoil,” said the Bear King, “which only you and you amazing administrative abilities can correct.”

“Already done,” said the Wolf King. “Any other hints?”

“Just be your fantastic and marvelous self,” said the Bear King. “Just remember who your real friends are.

So, the Wolf King went back to MAGAland with a renewed purpose and energy. He did everything the Bear King suggested and felt so good about himself that he neglected to tariff The Rusher Kingdom. The Bear King accelerated his attacks on his neighboring kingdoms and the Wolf King said nothing.

The Bear King lived happily ever after.

Moral: Flattery will get you everything.

The End.