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That's right, everyone. It's time.
Hello. I'm Matthew.
We're all ready for a bedtime story. Are you? Get comfy and I'll begin.
Tonight's story is called What's The Time, Mr Wolf?
And it's by Debi Gliori.
It's seven o'clock in the morning.
Mr Wolf is woken up by four and twenty blackbirds.
"What's the time, Mr Wolf?" they tweet.
"It's time for a blackbird pie," yawns Mr Wolf.
It is eight o'clock in the morning.
All Mr Wolf's neighbours slam their doors on the way to work.
"Bang!" goes the door of the stone house.
"Crash!" goes the door of the wooden house.
"Thud!" goes the door of the straw house.
"What's the time, Mr Wolf?" giggle the three little pigs.
"Time for bacon sandwiches," mutters Mr Wolf.
It is nine o'clock in the morning.
Here comes the postgirl in her little red hood.
"About time, too!" thinks Mr Wolf, running to the door.
But there is nothing for Mr Wolf. Not so much as a card.
Poor Mr Wolf!
It is ten o'clock in the morning.
Mr Wolf is trimming the hairs on his chinny chin chin
when his phone rings.
Mr Wolf hears a snort, then an oink and a giggle.
Finally, a voice squeals, "What's the time, Mr Wolf?"
"Not you lot again!" groans Mr Wolf.
"It's time you little pigs bought a watch! Goodbye."
And he put the phone down.
It is 11 o'clock in the morning.
Mr Wolf's tummy gives a loud rumble.
"What's the time, Mr Wolf?" he wonders. "Time for a snack?"
But when he goes to his cupboard, it is bare!
Even his dish has run off with his spoon!
It is 12 o'clock, midday. "Time to go shopping," thinks Mr Wolf.
He is halfway to the shops when it starts to rain.
"Time I bought an umbrella," thinks Mr Wolf.
It is one o'clock in the afternoon.
"Bong!" There's a mouse running up Mr Wolf's clock.
"What's the time, Mr Wolf?" squeaks the mouse.
But Mr Wolf doesn't answer. Mr Wolf is out.
It is two o'clock in the afternoon. Mr Wolf is in the cake shop.
"What's the hurry, Mr Wolf?" says the bakerman.
"I'm baking your cake as fast as I can, patting and prodding
"and filling with jam.
"Bake for an hour then remove from the pan."
It is three o'clock in the afternoon.
Mr Wolf is tired and very, very hungry.
He is heading home when...
Zoom! Whoosh! A crowd rushes past.
"No time to stop, Mr Wolf!" they gasp. "We're already late."
It is four o'clock in the afternoon. Mr Wolf takes the shortcut home.
It is cool and shady under the trees.
"Time for a nap," says Mr Wolf.
He is nearly asleep when...
"Hey, diddle-ee! Diddle-ee, diddle-ee! Oww!"
Mr Wolf's eyes spring open.
There's a cat playing a fiddle!
"Five o'clock. Time to wake up, Mr Wolf!" the cat says.
"Shall I play some more lovely tunes on my fiddle?"
Mr Wolf shudders. "Good grief!" he says.
"Is that the time? Awfully sorry, must dash."
And he runs away as fast as he can.
It is six o'clock.
"Bong!" goes Mr Wolf's clock.
"Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Twong!"
"Ssshh!" say Mr Wolf's friends.
Mr Wolf is nearly home.
He climbs the step, lifts the latch, opens his door and...
"What's the time, Mr Wolf? It's party time!"
And later, much later, all Mr Wolf's friends have gone home.
Mr Wolf is brushing his teeth. Mr Wolf is pulling up the quilt.
"What's the time, Mr Wolf?" say the stars.
Mr Wolf doesn't reply
because Mr Wolf is fast asleep.
It is bedtime.
That was a story called What's The Time, Mr Wolf?
If we asked Mr Wolf what the time was now,
he would say that it's time for YOU to go to bed.
So snuggle up warm and lay down your head.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd