The Storyteller (1987–1989): Season 1, Episode 1 - Hans My Hedgehog - full transcript

A farmer's wife wishes to have a child so badly she doesn't care what it looked like. And as if by a miracle, she does get pregnant but the child, Hans, looks like a cross between a human and a hedgehog. Nicknamed 'Grovelhog' by the other children and unaccepted by his father, Hans asks for a saddle for his giant chicken and leaves. Twenty years later a king who has lost his way stumbles upon the Grovelhog's castle. The creature helps the king find his way home, but demands to receive something in return: the first thing that greets the king on his way home...

[Cawing]

[Storyteller]
When people told themselves
their past with stories,

explained their present
with stories,

foretold the future
with stories,

the best place by the fire
was kept for...

The storyteller.

Humph, story...

Imagine a cold night

and a dark night,

a night like this one.

And imagine a bed
with a farmer and his wife
fast asleep,



snuggling up for warmth.

And in this bed,
the farmer, shivering,

reaches out
for his wife.

But instead of a head,
he finds a foot

because his missus is rubbing
noses with their dog,

who sleeps every night
at the end of the bed.

What kind of dog?

I don't know. A dog,
some kind of dog.

Some kind of dog?
Terrific story.

Should I bark?

Oh, no!

[Wife]
Just for tonight.

Don't be dense, woman.

One night won't hurt.
It might work.



Sleeping upside down?
What good's that gonna do?

Midwife said
it sometimes helps.

You're not
gonna get a child.

If you want company,
get a widow woman
up from the village.

Now come up this end.

I'm proper frozen.

[Linen rustling]

But the farmer's wife
didn't want no widow
for company,

she wanted a baby.

And she'd wanted this child
for what seemed a lifetime

until she couldn't bear
to watch the lambs born,

or the calves come,
or the eggs hatch.

It hurt her so.

And she drove the farmer mad
with her cranky books,

and her cranky charms,
and remedies.

[Farmer]
This stinks!

That's good.

It's good?

I'm making you
a nice tonic and all.

To be drunk,
night and morning.

I want a child.

I wouldn't care
if it were a strange thing

made of marzipan
or porridge,

if it were ugly
as a hedgehog.

I want a baby
to wrap in a bundle

and sing to and snoodle with

and hug to bits.

Now, to say you wouldn't care
when you want something

is a dangerous thing.

That woman wanted a baby
so bad she couldn't care
what she got.

If she got a hedgehog,
she'd bring its snout
to her breast.

Ears twitch
that shouldn't be listening.

And no sooner said
than done,

she'd got her wish,
the farmer's wife.

She's all swollen stomach

and thinks it's the baths
she took,

or the sleeping
upside down.

But in fact,
of course,

it's the saying,
"you wouldn't care
what you got,"

what gets you jiggered.

As everyone knows
what heard a proper story.

She has her boy,

and straight away
there he is,

little ball
as ugly as sin

with a pointed nose
and sprouting hair everywhere.

Hedgehogs do not
have hair,

they have quills.

[Creaking]

[Storyteller]
But this hedgehog baby had
quills as soft as feathers.

And his mother held him
to her breast

and wrapped him in a bundle
and snoodled him,

and hugged him to bits.

And she gave him
the name, hans.

"Hans my hedgehog,"
she called him.

Oh yes, the mother
loved her baby all right.

But not everybody did.

[Woman #1]
Is it a hedgehog?

[Woman #2]
What is this?

[People cackling]

We're a laughing stock.

[People chattering]

[People sneering]

[Farmer yelling]

We're going home.

What about our chores?

That's the end of parading
ourselves in public.

[Hooves clomping]

Don't cry, my sweet.

He don't even cry
like a proper baby.

[Squealing]

Can't you shut
that squealing?

Ow!

And the farmer
grew to hate his son,

hans, the hedgehog boy.

Out in the field
he chopped and scythed,

and bundled and milked.

But all the while
the shame of what
had befallen him

turned a knot in his heart.

One moment the rage
welling up in him,
the next, tears.

Huge tears
splashing his boots.

And time passed by.

Day following day,
week chasing week.

And the hedgehog boy
grew up.

[Boy #1]
Hey, beastie!

[Boy #2]
Hey, critterchops!

[Boy #3]
Hey, prickle back!

Hoghead! Grovelhog!

[Boys]
Grovelhog!
Grovelhog!

[Storyteller]
And hans my hedgehog
learned he was strange,

and he learned he was ugly,
and he learned to be sad,

and he learned the name
that was given him:

[Boy]
Grovelhog!

[Grunting]

That's enough! Out!

Out!

Husband!

From now on
you'll eat out there
with the other beasts!

Hans!

Hans!

[Farmer]
Come home!

[Storyteller]
Hans heard them
but he wouldn't answer.

He lay there all night,
his rooster for company,

and thought and thought
until he thought
a hole in the ground.

And his mother
couldn't sleep,

and his father wandered
the dark hours,

a great needle
in his heart.

In the morning, weary,
the farmer returned.

By the step asleep
was his son, the grovelhog.

I've trudged
all night for you.

You'll not eat
for a week off my food.

Father, I want you
to do some things for me.

You what?

I want you to go
to the village

and have me a saddle made
for my rooster,

so I can ride him.

And I want
some of your sheep,

and some hens,
and some pigs.

Oh, do you now?
Fancy fine.

I know which ones
I'd like.

And they would be happy
to come with me.

Come with you?
Come with you where?

Where I go,
which is away.

Which is to somewhere
where I can't hurt anyone

and no one
can hurt me.

And when are you
planning this gad
to away and somewhere?

When I have
the saddle.

Thou can't
go nowhere.

What would your mother say?
Her who dotes on you?

Father, all night
I lay outdoor

to understand why
you don't love me.

And I've thought
until I've thought
a hole in the grass.

And now
it's all right.

When I have the saddle,
I'll go.

And the farmer felt ashamed.

And he brought home a saddle
for the rooster,

and he herded up the animals
his son had asked for,

and he told his wife,
"pack a packed lunch,"

and all the while
the grovelhog sat
on the stoop and waited.

When all was done
he went to his mother
and she kissed him,

and then to his dad
and hugged him.

And the farmer knew
for the first time,

how soft he was.

They watched him until
he was a faint smudge
in the distance.

And his mother felt
a crack in her heart
like a tiny pencil line.

And each day after
the pencil line
got thicker and thicker.

And one day,
not long after,

her heart split in half

and she died.

20 years later,
a king got lost
in a great forest.

And after he got lost
he got more lost,

until he was so lost
he began to tug his ear,

which is a sure sign
of big trouble,

when he heard a sound,

which was a bitter sound
and a sweet sound
all at once.

Which began like hello
and ended like goodbye.

And tugging his ear
like Billy-o,

he followed the sound
until he came to a clearing.

And the palace
the king saw before him

was the most
extraordinary palace
in your whole born.

[Grunting]

[Clearing throat]

I, uh, I am very lost,

and I am very hungry.

And, uh, somewhere,
back there,

a long time ago,
I was a king.

But now, so lost
and so hungry,

you would knock
at a beast's house?

We-well...

You are welcome
in my house, sir,
and at my table.

[Storyteller]
And the king sat
at the grovelhog's table

and ate
of the greenest Greens
and the sweetest sweets,

and the juiciest juices.

Oh, how very, very kind.

And after, his host
took up the bagpipes

and played old songs,
which were bitter and sweet
all at once,

and began like hello
and ended like goodbye.

And before he could think,
"I'm full now and found,"

the king was asleep.

Well, this king woke up
the next morning,

after a night
of the kind of dreams
you only dream about.

And he opened his eyes
and almost yanked off his ear

because he found himself
under a tree,

which certainly wasn't
where he'd fallen asleep,

and more confusing,

it was a tree
from which he could see
the edge of his kingdom.

And he began to dance

as only kings once lost
and then found can dance.

A jig, a jiggle-joggle
and a leap--

I've heard
this story

and you're telling it
all wrong. Humph!

What happens is,

the king wants to give
the grovelhog a reward

for all his help,
and so he says,

"name anything."

And the hogthing says,

"give me the first thing
to greet you

when you arrive
in your kingdom."

[Dog]
And the king agrees

because he knows
the first thing to greet him

will be his faithful,
flop-eared w-w-wagger,

the royal dog.

So the king says, "yes."
And the hogthing says,

"I'll collect my reward
in a year and a day."

And off he goes
on his ridiculous rooster.

But

things don't go
as he planned, do they?

And it's not w-w-wagger
who gets there first.

[King exulting]

[Storyteller]
And the king lets go
of the Princess

of sweetness and cherry pie
and his face clouds over.

But then he shrugs
and turns back
to his daughter and dog

and walks away
for a year and a day.

Here we are, dearie-o's
in the king's great hall.

And lo and behold,
a handsome storyteller

has been summoned to court
to entertain the royal family.

King.

Now, of course, the king here
has been counting the days
off his calendar

and it is a year ago today,
you see,

since he made his rash promise
to the grovelhog.

And tomorrow,
you'll remember, is the day

when the grovelhog
is due to arrive
to collect his reward.

Princess...

I'm very good at this.

Hey!

Get rid of him! Fool! Idiot!
Throw him in the dungeon!

Feed him inch by inch
to my royal sharks!

And what they won't eat,
give to his dog!

[Storyteller]
No, help! No, no,
put me down! Put me down!

[Sighs]

[Servant]
Your majesty, a huge army
appears at the gates!

[King]
Oh, does it?

Not men, but animals, sire.

Told you.

Sire?

I heard you!
Let them in.

[Door opening]

[Animals grunting]

Get off! Get off!
Give a fellow some space!
I want to hear this.

[Rooster clucking]

[Grovelhog]
Do you remember me?

[King]
I do.

A year and a day have passed
since last we met.

Will you keep
your promise to me?

I will.

He will?

[Door opens]

Do you know of me, lady?

I do, sir.

You saved my father
and he owes you his life.

Do you know
of his promise to me?

He promised you
the first thing to greet him

on his return.

And what was that?

Hmm?

Me, sir.

I am yours.

Then I want you
to be my wife

and come live with me
in the forest.

I want you to be my Princess
of sweetness and cherry pie.

I want to catch you up
and sing to you.

I want you to love me.

Yes, sir.

Do you find me
very ugly?

No, sir.

Not so ugly as going back
on a promise.

[Jailor]
Come on, shift yourselves!

There's a royal wedding
and you're all to be pardoned,

though I don't know why,
I'm sure. Well, come on!

And I don't know
about wedding.

Up there,
it's more like a funeral.

Good, good, good, good.
A wedding.

I might even be asked
to tell a story or 2.
Who knows?

It's on days like these,
that artists come
into their own.

[People chattering]

[Church bells ringing]

[People gasping]

[Priest]
Ahem.

We are gathered here today--

[groaning]

[Crashing]

[People murmuring]

[Storyteller]
The most unhappy
wedding party you ever saw...

And that night,
in her bedchamber

it was a terrified Princess
who lay waiting

for her new husband
to join her.

And lying there,

half sweetness,
half cherry pie,

the Princess could
hardly credit
what she'd seen.

But creeping to the window,
she looked down

and there,
sure enough, a man,

moving among the animals
in the quiet rain.

And she found herself
going to the abandoned coat
of hair and quills,

and touching it,

soft and warm
and remarkable.

And the first rays of morning
woke her from dreams

of waterfalls
and ice cream.

And there she was
in her bed.

And by the embers,
the grovelhog,

back again,
beast again.

And so, had she dreamed
all this peeling off of skin?

Surely, she must have.

But that night,
the same scene,

her husband standing over her
as she pretended to sleep.

The tender touch on her arm,
not prickly, but so smooth

she felt an ache
when he left her.

And she found herself
going to the skin
and lying against it.

And how comfortable
she found it.

And she felt drowsy
lying there by the fire,
so peaceful.

She felt herself drifting off
and knew she musn't,

but really
couldn't help herself.

[Door opens]

[Footstep]

Sir, I woke
and you had gone.

And left behind you,
your coat of quills.

Which would you have
for a husband?

The man or the creature?

I have a husband, sir,

and he is what he is.
No more and no less.

Then forgive him, madam,
if he returns to his skin.

For I'm enchanted
and cannot leave it.

But if you say
nothing of this
for a 3rd night,

then loyal love
will break the spell

forever.

I promise.

[Storyteller laughs]

But we all know
about promises, hmm?
Don't we?

And secrets.

What use are they
when no one knows about them?

[Dishes rattling]

When they twist and turn
and tickle in our stomachs?

When they're tickly
little fish

wriggling into
our conversations?

Now you see,
the Princess had a mother

and mothers have this way
of catching secret-fish

and promise-fish.

They eye us with wise eyes
and all our rivers
are glass to them.

Just so with the queen,

who that morning
at breakfast

sees a daughter
skip to the table,

eat, when for days
no appetite.

Hungry?yes.

Laugh, when for days
no laughter.

Sleep well?Yes, thank you.

Not troubled
by the creature?

No, mother.

And please don't speak
of him as a creature.

Listen, daughter,

last night your father and I
went to a wise woman

and told of your tragedy.

And she knows
of these...

Creatures,

these grovelhogs,

and knows the remedy.

He is enchanted,
you see.

I know.Oh?

I--i mean, i--i knew
that he must be.

S-S-Something like that.

Yes, I see.
He's enchanted.

He's told you,
hasn't he?

No, really, he hasn't.
I just knew he must be.

And, um, does he
take off his skin?

No, no. He doesn't.

The only way
to break the spell

is to throw the skin
into the fire.

Cast the skin
into the flames

and he will be
free of it.

That's not the way.

So, he has told you!

[Door opening]

[Grunting]

[Snorting]

[Chomping]

[Storyteller]
That night, the 3rd,

when everything
happens as before,

the Princess is haunted
by her mother's advice.

And oh, dear, oh, dear...

[Crackling]

[Grovelhog screaming]

[Thunder rumbling]

[Gasping]

[Whimpering]

[Yelping]

Husband, please!
Please don't go--

[roars]

[Knocking on door]

Daughter!

[Storyteller]
And there she sat,

the Princess of sweetness
and cherry pie,

weeping into the fire.

And she would let
no one see her, not even me,

and I was her favorite.

No, she thought and thought

until she thought a hole
in the hearth.

Until she knew
what she must do.

She went
to the blacksmith

and got from him
a pair of iron shoes.

And that night,
when all slept,

she slipped out
of the palace

and set off
to wander the world

in search of her husband.

She walked and walked

until she wore out
the first pair of shoes.

And still no one
had set eyes
on the grovelhog.

And she got a 2nd pair
of shoes and began again,

never stopping,
always hoping.

And the 2nd pair
of shoes wore out.

And still she walked,
always looking, always hoping

to hear a music
both bitter and sweet,

beginning in hello
and ending in goodbye,
but nothing.

Till one day,
weary and wretched,

she came to a stream
and lay down by it.

And saw in the water's mirror

her hair was now quite white.

And she sorrowed
for her red hair
and her husband.

Both lost forever.

[Cawing]

[Fluttering]

[Grunting]

To the health of that
most beautiful woman

who could not
keep her promise
for one more day.

Husband?

How did you find me?

I have walked the world
to find you

and have worn the soles
of 3 pairs of iron shoes.

My hair
is no longer red,

but I come
to claim you.

And catch you up
and snoodle you
and hug you to bits.

[Grunting]

[Screaming]

[Storyteller]
And so the Princess,

who could not
keep her promise,

won back her husband
through looking
without hope of finding

and holding on
for dear life.

And in time
her hair grew red again

and there was
another wedding all over.

And we were both invited.

And I told the best story
there is to tell.

A story which begins in hello
and ends in goodbye.

And for a gift
she gave me a shoe
worn to nothing.

And...

Here it is.

[Chuckling]