baffling...just baffling

SO..I stumbled upon this page that had a fairytale generator, you select factors, and i t generates you a fairytale www.brown.edu/Courses/FR0133/Fairytale_Generator/gen.html/

this is what came out...

I could not stay like I promised, so I took father's satchel hidden underneath his bed and followed the smell of him. If I could not smell anger, I could at least smell my father, wandering the valley bloodthirsty and violent. In the search for my father, I found someone else. Another man, smelling for something angry, with only one eye and a tangling beard. He was distinctly foreign. I gave him my satchel and shoes as he asked me, then I shed my clothes as he advised me to do. "Wear this," he said, and he shed his own skin. It fell off in a pile on the soil floor looking like a tablecloth used in my home. When I clothed myself in his skin I no longer smelled like my home or the valley. Instead I became like the men on the mountain. I smelled distinctly foreign. I thanked the man and watched as he dressed himself in my own clothes. He said he would wear them until new skin grew on his back. Under my feet I felt the rhythm of aches and sighs breathe with each step I took. I felt like I was walking on quicksand. And indeed, when I tried to move my feet I could not feel my toes but only the inability to move them on the surface of palpable danger. When I turned to ask for his help he only laughed. Then I began to think it was he who was making my feet turn to stone. The fairy placed a single seed in my palm which I immediately planted and tended to for months. For days, I watered the seed, showered it with words of encouragement as it grew into a young sprout, and gave it proper space and care as it blossomed fully into a magnificent red rose that granted any wish that I whispered lovingly into its soft petals. "This man," he pointed at me, "this man killed our father. See the blood on his shirt Mother? See it? The smell is like one of our own." My family pressed their hands on various swells of my body as they embraced me with joy. The needle from my tongue flung towards the lying man and struck him in the heart. It gave him poison at the place where it would hurt the most, and soon the man became a limp purple figure of stone.