Vinny and Dorina — A Funkadelic Philly Twist on Hansel & Gretel

Once upon a groovy time in 1970s South Philly, lived a small-time corner store owner named Fritz, his sharp-tongued wife Margaret, and their two disco-loving kids:

• Vinny, self-proclaimed ‘Da South Philly Scratchmaster Alakazzaam’, and

• Dorina, a sass queen in bell-bottoms.

Business was bad ever since the Nyung Ho Vietnamese Market opened downtown. The family couldn’t even afford magical Goya beans or enchanting Hershey’s bars anymore. One night, while chain-smoking near the kitchen window, Fritz moaned to Margaret:

“Margaret! What are we gonna do? These deadbeat kids just spin disco records all day, while we can’t even keep the lights on!”

Margaret, never one to mince words, snapped:

“Easy fix! Tomorrow, we’ll pretend to take them to the Liberty Bell, ditch them there, and by the time they figure it out, the city’s cannibal junkies’ll find ‘em! Problem solved!”

Fritz chuckled wickedly:

“You’re evil, Maggie — I love it!”

Abandoned in the Heart of Philly

The next morning, they boarded the graffiti-plastered Philly transit bus to the Liberty Bell. As soon as Vinny and Dorina got distracted by tourists, Fritz and Margaret vanished faster than a hot pretzel on game night.

Sitting on a park bench munching on the Boston Baked Beans their folks packed, Dorina wailed:

“Fiddlesticks, Vinny! We’re lost in this concrete jungle!”

Vinny rolled his eyes, adjusting his imaginary DJ headphones:

“Chill, sis. I heard of a magical frog named George Clinton — word is, he can hook us up with a place to crash!”

They wandered grimy Philly streets all night, sipping from public fountains and dodging shady alleyways. By dawn, they stumbled upon an old, rusty van with “CHEESESTEAK VAN” scrawled on the side.

Unable to resist, they busted in — and what did they find? A never-ending supply of warm, melty Philly cheesesteaks. They dug in like they hadn’t eaten in days — which, to be fair, they hadn’t.

Suddenly, a raspy voice snarled from the front:

“Nibble, nibble, gnaw — who’s munchin’ my hoagies raw?!”

Vinny shot back:

“Just some hobos, nothing to see here!”

But it was no hobo — a terrifying witch with glowing red eyes, frizzled blue hair, and scaly green skin burst into the van.

“Since you greasy lil’ punks ate my cheesesteaks, I’mma fry ya in this deep fryer right here! Bon appétit to me!”

She tied them up next to a bubbling fryer, humming to herself about sauces and seasoning.

Enter: The Funkadelic Frog

Just when all hope seemed lost, a frog wearing star-shaped sunglasses and rainbow-colored hair bounced into the van.

“Sup kids, name’s George Clinton — if ya want saving, gotta give me three big smooches each!”

Vinny and Dorina groaned, but before they could refuse, George jumped up and planted three juicy smooches on both their cheeks. With each kiss, he started morphing into a groovy human, still rocking his iconic shades.

“At least now you ain’t fryer food!” George laughed, cutting their ropes.
“Grab my hands, let’s fly!”

With a mighty leap, they soared out of the van just as the witch shrieked behind them:

“You nasty little thieves! I’ll get you next time!”

The Funky Philly Dream

George flew them across the city and landed in North Philly, where he clapped his hands. In a flash, two high-rise brick apartments rose up, shining like disco balls in the morning sun.

“There ya go, kids! Two royal apartments complete with balconies, discotheques, Goya beans, and chocolate bars for life!”

Vinny and Dorina cheered, spinning and dancing right there on the sidewalk.

“Thank you, Mr. Clinton!” they shouted.

With a final raspy chuckle, George Clinton faded into sparkles, probably off to start another band.

Vinny and Dorina lived out their days spinning records, devouring cheesesteaks, and ruling their funky high-rises with disco pride.

Moral of the Story

Sometimes, when life dumps you in a greasy van, all you need is a little funk, a magical frog, and a belly full of cheesesteaks to find your groove.