Hans Gets Stollen

"Did I ever tell you the tale of the thirty dirty thieves who stole a dozen steaming stollen?"

Mr. Schmeckenpepper, proprietor of Schmeckenpepper's corner cafe, gazed into the soulful eyes of Hans Christian Andersen and wished with all his Danish might that he had taken his dear mother's advice and had moved to America with his Uncle Waldo.

"No, Hans, I have not," said Mr. Schmeckenpepper. "But please be so good as to tell me before the schnitzel I carry catches cold and my adoring patrons adore me no more."

"Very well, Mr. Schmeckenpepper," continued Hans. "Once upon a time there lived a baker by the name of Frederick. One day Frederick had baked a dozen Christmas stollen for the king's daughter Hortence.

"Frederick had placed the dozen steaming stollen in his delivery cart and was making his way through the forest when his horse began to whinny and whimper.

"'What is it, old boy?' said Frederick. 'We must make it to the castle before the stollen gets cold. Else wise the king will hand me back my head on one of my platters. How embarrassing would that be?'

"But the horse continued to snort and stammer, forcing Frederick to step down off the cart to offer his horse some comfort.

“No sooner had Frederick's foot touched the ground than the cause of the horse's anxiety became apparent.

"Dropping out the trees, one by one, were the Thirty Dirty Thieves of Danish Descent.

"'Halt!' cried a particularly dirty thief. 'We mean you no harm, baker Frederick. We are only here to steal your stollen.'

"'You're stealing my stollen?' cried the baker.

"'Yes,' said a thief who had only a little dirt under his fingernails (he was a new member of the gang, and had much to learn about getting really dirty), 'we're stealing your stollen!'

"The baker was so dumbstruck by the rudeness and the aroma of the Thirty Dirty Thieves of Danish Descent that he fainted.

"The dirty thieves placed the baker in the cart and stole the steaming stollen.

"'On your way!' cried a smudgy little man who was not really of Danish descent, but he owned his own pig pen and was grudgingly tolerated by the others. 'On your way, I say!' and he smacked the horses rump and watched as the horse galloped on towards the castle.

"When the king looked down from his window and saw Frederick asleep in the cart, and not a stollen to be found anywhere, he assumed that the baker was drunk and had eaten all the stollen.

"As a result, Frederick was found guilty of stealing and banished to the forest, where he joined up with the Thirty Dirty Thieves of Danish Descent.

"Soon, after introducing the group to the art of baking - and several cakes of soap - their camp became a haven for every two-bit culinary pipe-dreamer with a wooden spoon under one arm and a piping hot stollen recipe under the other.

"It got so you couldn't walk through the forest without tripping over a new stollen stand.

"In a years time Frederick and the thirty Danish descendants cleaned up in stollen goods and became filthy rich. They all lived happily ever after.

"Wasn't that an inspiring story, Mr. Schmeckenpepper?"

That night, after dropping a plate of schnitzel on Hans' head, Mr. Scmeckenpepper was made to spend the night in the pokey.