Judging from the numbers, Little Red Riding Hood was Avery's favorite fairy-tale heroine; he did three versions of her story with "Little Red Walking Hood," "Red Hot Riding Hood," and "Little Rural Riding Hood," and couldn't resist introducing her into "The Bear's Tale," his update of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears." He did the Cinderella story twice, once at Warners ("Cinderella Meets Fella") and once at MGM ("Swing Shift Cinderella"). The "Three Little Pigs" appear twice -- once in the Hitler satire "Blitz Wolf" and once as part of a gallery of fairy tale characters in "A Gander at Mother Goose."

Some notes on these films follow.
 

Much of Disney's version of the "Three Little Pigs" is focused on the building of the houses. Avery, less interested in the virtues of the work ethic, minimizes this process in his take on the story. "Blitz Wolf" is an elaborate send-up of Hitler, who appears here as Avery's ubiquitous, comically pompous Wolf. The war, and catering to "our boys" who were fighting it, gives Avery the excuse to insert some surprisingly up-front sex gags. In one of his most blatant, the militant pig counters a very phallic missile with a copy of Esquire magazine. With a lewd smile, he holds up a cheesecake image, which causes the missile to retreat, bring back a group of its "friends," who then line up at stiff attention, emit a scream the viewer can't help but read as an orgasm, then fall limp back to Earth.

"Cinderella Meets Fella" (1938)/"Swing Shift Cinderella" (1943)
Egghead, a precursor of Elmer Fudd, is the "fella" of the title, and his co-star bears little resemblance to the sexpot created five years later for "Swing Shift Cinderella." She's small, more like a midget than a child, but feisty; desperate to locate her fairy godmother, she screams with a man's voice at the police: "GO GET HER, BOYS!" As in the other fairy-tale films, the godmother here is a lush, a fact well known to the police who are helping Cinderella find her ("Don't worry, lady, we'll search every beer joint in town!"). The opening frames offer a neat precis of Avery's style, starting with a formal, traditional image and sound (a fancy invitation to the ball, with appropriately courtly music) but quickly moving into the modern era (the invitation ends with an ad for "Sweeney's Drive-In" with a hot jazz background). "Cinderella Meets Fella" is also prescient: in an early, ironic variety of the much-loathed "product placement" of present-day cinema, Fella finds a note from his beloved that says "Dear Princy… went to a Warner Bros. show."