“When they called me ‘Big’ I tried to take it with good grace. At first I wasn’t sure quite what they meant as I’m certainly no taller than your average wolf; it took me a little while to realise they weren’t referring to my height, but my waistline. But I was more than happy with the description ‘Bad’. In fact I felt quite smug. I thought it meant I was kinda cool, like in Michael Jackson’s ‘Because I’m bad, I’m bad – come on’, you know? But before I knew it I’d got woodsmen, grandmothers and the porcine Cosa Nostra all baying for my blood.”
“Tell me about it,” said the Wicked Witch.