Parody of Poe

"Goldilocks and the Three Bears" Once upon a midday dreary, Goldilocks pondered weak and weary, noticing a cottage of curious shape, she'd never seen before. Frightfully bored with her walking, and sick of hearing her own voice talking, she did skip and started knocking, knocking at the cottage door. "T'is a visitor." she hollered, "knocking at your cottage door- it's me Goldilocks and no one more. Presently her nerve grew stronger, not wanting to stand there any longer, "Hey!" she said, "Anyone home? Or do you wish to just ignore; the fact that I've been all day walking, so innocently with myself talking, and now so loudly I am knocking, knocking at your cottage door. I'm not sure if you can hear me," and with this opened the door- darkness there and nothing more. Deep into the cottage peering, long she stood there wondering, fearing, doubting if she dared to enter, never through this door before. The stillness inside was yet unbroken; the silence was thick, her questions unspoken, surely she was there alone, for someone would have woken by her knocking on the door. Then she turned, secretly smiling and softly closed the cottage door- curious to snoop and nothing more. Suddenly seeing at the table, three small chairs with curious label, feeling uneasy, she glanced back at the cottage door. Then she saw with her turning, three sized bowls, the first one burning, glancing down, secretly yearning for the contents each bowl bore. After sipping, sampling, slurping, and choosing what the third bowl bore- her conclusion was porridge and nothing more. With distaste that she did utter, her dislike she gave a shudder, as she settled on a chair to think her thoughts some more. The first chair hard had her bawling; the second too soft, its cushions sprawling; the third chair broke and sent her falling, crashing to the cottage floor. There she was surprised and senseless, sitting on the cottage floor- with a bruised knee and nothing more. Feeling achy and sort of sleepy, not to mention feeling weepy, she climbed the stairs softly, suspicious of the second floor. Three beds in view had her thinking, one too hard, the next one sinking; she picked the last and without blinking, fell asleep and into snore. The owners mumbled, just returning, found themselves eagerly drooling, as they watched the strange girl snore- "T'is our dinner and nothing more." The owners with their fuzzy faces, sit at the table in their places, acting normal, nothing's wrong- just like before. They sit there placid, simply eating, on the stove a pot is heating, as they wait for the next entreating wanderer to their door. A knock quickly has them grinning, politely they answer their cottage door- "T'is another free meal and nothing more.