Twisted Fairytales

The Three Little Pigs and Junior

Once upon a time, there were three little pigs. Well, 2 pigs plus me, if you want to be really exact. But who's counting?

After escaping the merciless wrath of the Big Bad Wolf and nearly losing our lives, we needed a new place to live. Sure, my brick house was still standing, but it was going to take more than that to survive. The three of us wandered around for many days until Porky squealed, "Why don't we just make new houses?"

"That sounds like a good idea!" I said.

"Wow, look at you," said Ham. "Sooo smart. I could've come up with that idea myself."

"So why didn't you?" I asked him. "It would have saved us a lot of walking, you know." Porky laughed, and Ham's face went bright red.

Later that same day, we got to work. Porky built her house with sticks, being careful not to knock it down with her own clumsiness. Ham, on the other hand, was too busy making a house of cards.

"Aren't you going to help out?" said Porky. "You know, it is your house, after all."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in a minute." Ham waved her off. When she turned around, he came over to me and slid me a $5 bill. "...Unless I can have you build me one?" He gave me his award-winning secret wink.

I was too hard at work on my own, new-and-improved brick house to care about Ham's house. Plus, I didn't think I would have nearly enough bricks for the both of us. "Fine," I snorted, snatching the money from him. "But you owe me one."

As the sun went down, Porky was singing and dancing with Ham, the lazy brute. While Ham was trying to get Porky not to trip over his hooves so much, I gathered some leftover straw from lunchtime and crafted a house for Ham. After all, I never promised him his house would be good, and you know how the saying goes: "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself."

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to any of us, we had a stalker. A big bad wolf was watching us the whole time, and he probably thought to himself, "What juicy, tender meals they will make!" Yeah, right. Not on my watch.

At high noon the next day, I saw the wolf approaching through my window. Porky and Ham were too busy dawdling to even notice until the wolf started chasing them. Frightened, they raced to their respective houses faster than that one hare who raced the tortoise.

The wolf went to Ham's house first and banged his paws on the door. "Little pig, little pig, let me come in!"

"Who are you?" cried Ham.

"Remember my dad you ruthlessly boiled to death?" boomed the wolf. I gasped as I realized: he was the Big Bad Wolf's son. "That wasn't very nice of y'all to do." And he huffed and puffed and blew the house down in a matter of seconds. In a hurry, Ham ran to Porky's stick house. The wolf followed him, roaring louder this time: "Little pig, little pig, let me come in!"

"What do you want from us?" Ham screamed. "I think you're supposed to say: 'Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!'" Porky corrected him, trying her hardest to stay calm.

"Wow, look at you." Ham rolled his eyes. "Sooo smart. YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"

"I've come to avenge my father!" boomed the wolf.

"Wait, so you don't want to eat us?" Porky said.

The wolf stopped to think for a moment. "That, too." And he huffed and puffed and blew that house down, too. So of course, Porky and Ham ran to me, as they always do when there's a problem.

"Some house you built for me, champ," Ham sneered.

I shrugged. "I never said it would be good."

"Wait, you what?" Porky exclaimed, glaring at Ham.

"Little pig, little pig-" "Okay, we get it," I said, marching right outside to face the wolf myself. "Listen here, you big bad wolf!"

"Actually, I prefer Junior."

"My apologies."

I cleared my throat. "Listen here, Junior! You can try all you want to blow this house down, but if I were you, I'd remember where that landed your dad."

"I don't care," boomed the wolf. "You will all make for some fine snacks!"

"Suit yourself," I said, going back inside my brick house. Like before, Junior huffed and puffed, but this time, he couldn't blow the house down. He tried for hours, but we pigs were safe inside because according to common sense, you can't blow down bricks. After I got bored watching Porky and Ham make googly eyes at each other for so long, I trotted back out.

"I told you already," I said, smugly crossing my arms. "It's not gonna happen."

Junior suddenly looked sad. "Well, now what do I do?" he cried. "I've failed my father. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a wee bit bad for the guy.

"Do you want to come to market with me?" I offered. "I can get you some food. You just have to promise not to attack us anymore."

Junior obliged. We went to market and came home with nothing but some vegetables for poor Junior to eat. Fortunately, Junior had told me he'd always wanted to try going vegan, anyway. After a couple of days, I had obtained some more bricks for Porky and Ham to make better houses out of, and they soon had much sturdier houses to live in. Junior served faithfully as our protector from the other wolves, and everyone lived happily ever after.

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