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I made a short story that was a fractured fairy tale of "The Gingerbread Man". Then, I translated it into Arabic. When I translated it back, this is what it looked like.
EDIT: Here's the original.
Some people agree that the gingerbread man was a runaway creation of the Bakers. As if, out of the blue, one of their delicious treats sprung to life and ran away. Well, sorry to burst your bubbles, but I do believe that what I am about to tell you is much more factual.
The Bakers were a sweet old couple, if a bit senile. After their children moved out of the house, they spent all of their free time baking. This meant they spent hardly any money on anything else. Where did all of that money go? Right into the “cookie jar.” This meant quite an easy target for me and ol’ Gingey.
That’s right, we were in cahoots; accomplices; collaborators; colleagues; conspirators… you get the idea. So the gingerbread man slips into the house through the open window, and right into the kitchen. Unfortunately, Mrs. Baker walked in just at that moment, and so he dove onto a tray of cooling gingerbread man cookies. He stayed still, looking just like any of the other, less lively cookies.
Mrs. Baker picked up one of the cookies and took a bite. “Delicious.” She said, and walked off. Taking the opportunity, the gingerbread man crept over to the cookie jar and opened it up quietly. Inside was a large wad of bills: later discovered to amount to over $300. That may not sound like a lot to you, but cookies and foxes don’t need much to get along.
So he gathers up the wad of cash, and he was just about to hop back out of the window when Mr. and Mrs. Baker walked in. They both stood in silence for a few moments, and then many things happened at once. Mr. Baker dove for the gingerbread man, Mrs. Baker picked up the phone to dial 9-1-1, and the cookie with the cash dashed out of the house.
Mr. Baker chased the gingerbread man down the street, waving a rolling pin and shouting “Thief! Thief! Stop him!” The man made a pretty good chase, but that may have been because the gingerbread man was little more than power-walking.
“Run, run, run, as fast as you can! You can’t catch me—I’m the gingerbread man!” He taunted as he sprinted. Mrs. Bakers call was answered, apparently, because a large German shepherd, a member of the K-9 police force, bolted down the street after him, yapping and barking all the way. The dog was much faster than Mr. Baker, but the gingerbread man was still not caught.
“Run, run, run, as fast as you can! You can’t catch me—I’m the gingerbread man!” He repeated, although a little out of breath. He had a fairly large lead on both the dog and the man when he arrived at the river. That’s when I came in.
“Hop on!” I shouted over the dog’s booming woofs and the man’s wheezing. “We’re almost there!” The little pastry-man climbed onto my back and I started wading across the river. It started to get deeper… just like I had planned.
“Climb on my shoulders, or else you’ll fall in.” I told him, and he did as he was told, lest he fall into the water. As the river got still deeper, I told him to get onto my head. “Hold onto my ears for support.” He did. Everything was going as planned.
“I thought you said you could wade through this river!” He said, a little panicked. I was out of breath, so I didn’t answer right away. Swimming faster than a K-9 dog was more difficult than I had anticipated.
“Oops.” I said. Finally, as we approached the center of the river, he was forced to climb onto my nose. “It was nice working with you,” I said sardonically as I gobbled him up and seized the money for myself. I made it to the other side of the river and dashed into a hole that I had dug the day before. The dog’s vicious jaws snapped as his snout invaded the narrow hole, but it was no use. I had already gotten away.