*Twinkly music plays*
*magical swooshing sound*
Narrator: It was a cold and wintery winter, that winter.
Nothing but ice and snow and snow and ice.
Everyone in town stayed indoors, day after day.
Sal and her mother stayed indoors too, watching the soft flakes fall.
But eventually the cupboard held only crumbs and the fridge was empty.
Sal and Rex decided to go into town in search of food.
*upbeat music plays*
Rex: Woof!
Sal: Coming Rex!
Rex: Woof!
*saxophone music underscores*
Sal: Closed!
Rex: Woof!
Sal: Um *sigh*
*saxophone music continues to underscore*
*upbeat chord*
Sal: Hmmm
Sal: Oo, aah, hmmm
Sal: Ohh
Sal: Uhhhh
Sal: Oooo!
Rex: Woof!
Old Woman: Come inside and get warm
*upbeat music begins*
Meow
Old woman: Are you alright poppet?
Sal: My mum sent me. We're hungry.
Old woman: Well I have something that might help.
It might not look much but if you whisper ‘cook little pot cook’, it’ll cook you
as much delicious porridge as you can eat.
And if you whisper ‘stop little pot stop’ it’ll stop.
Sal: Wow!
Old Woman: Now hurry back and find your mother, dearie.
Sal: Come on Rex!
*saxophone music plays*
Mum: Did you find anything?
What's this?
We don’t need a pot love, you must take it back.
Cook little pot cook!
*magical swooshing sounds*
Ooh!
Stop little pot, stop!
Amazing!
Mum: Oh, my wonderful, wonderful girl!
Narrator: Sal and her mum ate porridge everyday for weeks, and it was tasty and warm and filling.
One day, when spring was just around the corner, the snow stopped.
Sal was very bored of porridge.
She simply couldn’t bear to eat it anymore.
Sal: Come on Rex!
Rex: Woof!
Narrator: But Mum wanted more porridge.
Porridge with raisins, porridge without raisins, sweet porridge, plain porridge, salty porridge,
apple porridge, cinnamon porridge.
She loved them all.
Mum: Cook little pot cook!
*Magical sounds again*
*music becomes more dramatic*
Stop!
Stop! Please. Stop porridge stop!
No ah stop no please ah, stop porridge stop! Ahh!
No ah please no no no ah stop porridge stop please please!
Stop ah no stop no no no please no
Ah no stop porridge please porridge stop
*continued panic*
All of the neighbours ran out of their houses, and seeing the porridge-y, oaty milky mixture
traveling towards them ran ahead of the porridge flood and up the hill above the town.
All the neighbours except one.
Old Woman: Why does this always happen, eh Fluffy?
Fluffy: Meow! Purr.
Old Woman: Of course, you are right.
Sal: Mum!
Mum: Sal!
We need your help.
I told it to stop but it wouldn’t.
The naughty little pot!
Narrator: Sal and Rex looked out over the town.
The whole place was covered in thick porridge - all the sharp edges of buildings, lampposts
and chimney pots were softened into gloopy white goo.
Sal’s mind went blank.
What did she say to the pot to stop the porridge?
Rex: Woof!
Woof!
Sal: Where?
Rex: Woof!
Narrator: As soon as Sal saw the Old Woman, she remembered
what to do.
Sal: Little pot!
If you can hear me over all this porridge - STOP LITTLE POT, STOP!
Narrator: A silence fell upon the town.
Slowly but surely the heaving mass of warm porridge stopped growing and came to a halt.
Mum: Sal my love, thank you!
You’ve saved us from a fate worse than breakfast.
We’ll always remember how you stopped the porridge from swallowing us all up.
Sal: You’re very welcome!
Rex: Woof!
Fluffy: Meow!
Narrator: And that was almost the end of that.
Everyone on the hill had to eat their way home through the porridge.
It took a few days but by the time they got back they were all full and tired and happy
and none of them ever wanted to eat porridge ever again.
Oh, except one.
These days the little pot is back where it belongs in the old woman’s house.
Fluffy: Meow!
Narrator: And Sal and her Mum always plan ahead for the winter months
And always listen when someone gives them instructions, very, very closely.