Oven

 

The curtains twitched aside as she watched the new neighbours with their two plump children, move in next door. They looked like trouble she thought to herself, the kind of children who’d run all over my garden breaking things.

After they had settled in she took them a plate of her famous gingerbread, which the children scoffed without a thank you. The parents looked tired and frazzled, allowing their children, introduced as Hansel and Gretel, to do whatever they pleased. As she said goodbye she noticed a trail of gingerbread crumbs throughout the house. This hardened her resolve.

Once home she downloaded instructions on how to build your own pizza oven. She ordered cement and tools from the hardware store and hired a cement mixer. Bricks were delivered the very next day.  It took three days to build but in the end she had the world’s largest pizza oven in her backyard.

She invited her new neighbours over for pizza. Hansel and Gretel ran amok through her house, breaking a valuable antique. Their parents drank cheap wine, grizzled about the state of the world and took no notice of their children whatsoever. She heated the oven, readied the pizzas and asked the parents to give her a hand. They staggered outside laden with trays. They need to go right at the back she told them and as they stooped inside she hit them over the head with a rolling pin then placed their bodies up the corner.

She cooked the pizzas.  When they were done she called to Hansel and Gretel to come and get it. They ran outside, eager to eat. She sent them inside the oven to get the pizzas, claiming a sore back prevented her from stooping. Once inside she hit them over the head with the rolling pin, then sealed them all within.

Then she sat down with a cup of tea and a biscuit, satisfied that she had revenged her sister. She thought about moving. Soon. To a new neighbourhood. Perhaps she should change her name. Perhaps.

Copyright April 2013

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