After the terrible date with the wolf, I wasn’t feeling like my usual cheery self at all. Nothing will illustrate my state of mind better than me telling you the story of me telling little Jimmy the story of the Three Little Pigs.
My friend Muffin the Hamster invited me to dinner one evening, very soon after the date, and asked me to bring a book to read to Jimmy, because Jimmy, bless his sweet innocent soul, likes it when I tell him a story. At least, he used to like it…
Dear Reader, I’m very happy to introduce you to my beloved friend Muffin!
I was gloomy. Muffin is a great friend in all circumstances, but can sometimes have a tendency to lecture you on the simple principle that things didn’t go as she wanted. In this case, she wanted the date to go well. So she went on and on, explaining to me how and why I should meet someone and what I should do, until I was feeling positively doomed. Then, she asked:
“You brought a story for Jimmy ?”
I acquiesced.
“I found this old book in an old bookshop. There’s the story of the Three Little Pigs in there…
-Perfect! What do you think of that Jimmy? Do you want to hear it?”
Jimmy beamed. Muffin kissed him and left the room. I sat and brooded for a while, then, trying to smile and sound cheerful, I opened the book and started.
“Well Jimmy, let’s hear all about those little piggies, ok?
Settle down for a nice informative story!
THE STORY OF THE THREE LITTLE PIGS
Once upon a time there was an old Sow with three little Pigs, and as she had not enough to keep them, she sent them out to seek their fortune.
That’s a good start. I’m sure your mummy would never do such a thing. Or maybe, when you’re older. Much older. Hum. Look at those pigs! Well, I understand why their mom didn’t want them to stay! This one looks stupid, the other drunk, and the third one… absolutely vicious.
I see the Bad, I see the Ugly, but I don’t see any Good in this picture…
The first that went off met a Man with a bundle of straw, and said to him, “Please, Man, give me that straw to build me a house”; which the Man did…
That’s very nice of this stranger. This bundle of straw was certainly his living for a month, and he just gives it to the first idiotic Pig who asks. Poor guy.
…and the little Pig built a house with it.
And it must have been a big bundle, if it’s big enough to build a house with!
Presently came along a Wolf…
Ah, here comes a wolf. I could tell you lots of things about wolves. Dreadful creatures.
…and knocked at the door, and said, “Little Pig, little Pig, let me come in.” To which the Pig answered, “No, no, by the hair of my chinny chin chin.”
Chinny chin chin. Ridiculous.
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in !” said the Wolf. So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew his house in, and ate up the little Pig.
It may have been a horrific and painful death, but we can find solace in the fact that he didn’t understand what was happening to him, because he was such a dumdum.
So the poor man sacrificed his straw for nothing. I mean, his children certainly went hungry for days because he gave everything to a pig so stupid that his last words were Chinny chin chin.
The second Pig…
That’s the drunkard. Also, now that I think about it, why did the three brothers separate like that? Couldn’t they have stayed together? That’s siblings for you!
…met a Man with a bundle of furze, and said, “Please, Man, give me that furze to build a house”; which the Man did, and the Pig built his house.
People are very generous in this country. Or very stupid. And how drunk is this pig be to think that a house of furze is a good idea?
Then along came the Wolf and said, “Little Pig, little Pig, let me come in.” “No, no, by the hair of my chinny chin chin.”
Chinny chin chin again. I understand this one better, he’s not sober enough to appreciate how dumb it sounds.
“Then I’ll puff and I’ll huff, and I’ll blow your house in!”
This wolf has a tendency to announce his plans beforehand.
So he huffed and he puffed…
I’m sure there are easier ways to destroy a wood house than spluttering all over it…
…and he puffed and he huffed, and at last he blew the house down, and ate up the second little Pig.
He died doing what he loved…
That’s certainly what happens when you’re too drunk to run away for your life. Alcohol kills, kiddo, alcohol kills.
The third little Pig met a Man with a load of bricks, and said, “Please, Man, give me those bricks to build a house with”; so the Man gave him the bricks…
Now, I won’t believe that. Straw, furze, and now bricks? Are pigs sacred in this country? My theory is that those pigs are highway robbers. This pig got those bricks because he had a mask over his face, and was threatening the poor man with a pistol, or maybe he even straight up murdered him. In any case, I’m quite sure he didn’t say please. He doesn’t look like a pig who would say please. More like a pig who would murder you.
Your bricks or your life, peasant!
…and he built his house with them.
By himself? A brick house? More like, he threatened a whole team of masons to work for him, and never paid them a shilling!
So the Wolf came…
That wolf doesn’t know he’s dealing with a hardened criminal.
…as he did to the other little Pigs, and said, “Little Pig, little Pig, let me come in.”
And here we go again…
“No, no, by the hair of my chinny chin chin.” “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.” Well, he huffed and he puffed…
This wolf is not very bright.
…and he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and he huffed…
But quite perseverant, we have to admit!
…but he could not get the house down.
Not that much of a surprise, if you think about it.
When he found that he could not, with all his huffing and puffing, blow the house down (duh!), he said, “Little Pig, I know where there is a nice field of turnips.” “Where?” said the little Pig. “Oh, in Mr. Smith’s home-field ; and if you will be ready to-morrow morning, I will call for you, and we will go together and get some for dinner.”
I’m not sure Mr Smith will be very pleased with this plan, he worked very hard for those turnips.
“Very well,” said the little Pig, “I will be ready. What time do you mean to go?” “Oh, at six o’clock.”
This wolf is not the sharpest knife in the drawer. I feel like he is quite proud of his plan. He himself sees no flaw in it. If a hungry Tyrex was to come and promise him turnips at 6, he would come happily whistling at 6, and be all shocked when the Tyrex eats him.
Well, the little Pig got up at five, and got the turnips and was home again before six.
See, I told you this Pig was a thief. Poor Mr Smith. Another victim of this criminal family of pigs.
I hope you are paying attention, Jimmy.
When the Wolf came he said, “Little Pig, are you ready?”
I’m starting to like this wolf quite a lot. I mean, it is endearing. I’m sure he was early at the brick house, but waited a few minutes because he didn’t want to disturb the pig before 6.
“Ready !” said the little Pig, “I have been and come back again, and got a nice pot-full for dinner.” The Wolf felt very angry at this..
And quite right too! With the pig bragging about his turnips, and not even a thank you, though it was the wolf’s tip to steal from poor Mr Smith.
…but thought that he would be up to the little Pig somehow or other ; so he said, “Little Pig, I know where there is a nice apple-tree.” “Where ?” said the Pig. “Down at Merry-garden,” replied the Wolf ;
Another robbery, I’ll bet.
“and if you will not deceive me…
That pig, not deceive you?? O thou artless lupine cherub!
…I will come for you, at five o’clock to-morrow, and we will go together and get some apples.”
Well, the little Pig woke at four the next morning…
While the wolf was sleeping peacefully, the sweet innocent lamb.
…,and bustled up, and went off for the apples, hoping to get back before the Wolf came ; but he had farther to go, and had to climb the tree, so that just as he was coming down from it, he saw the Wolf coming, which, as you may suppose, frightened him very much.
I don’t suppose this horrible pig is frightened by anything.
When the Wolf came up he said, “Little Pig, what ! are you here before me ? Are they nice apples ?”
“Yes, very,” said the little Pig; “I will throw you down one.”
Who knew the skill of throwing an apple could be such a life-saver?
And he threw it so far that, while the Wolf was gone to pick it up, the little Pig jumped down and ran home.
Why did the wolf have to fetch this apple? Does he eat apples? Was it pure pleasure, like a dog with a ball? Was this poor wolf playing and running gleefully after the apple thrown by the vicious pig? Couldn’t the pig just give him a belly rub, and let him sleep in front of his chimney?
BALL!!
The next day the Wolf came again, and said to the little Pig, “Little Pig, there is a Fair in the Town this afternoon : will you go ?” “Oh, yes,” said the Pig, I will go; what time shall you be ready?” “At three,” said the Wolf.
Now this poor wolf just makes me sad. Couldn’t he try another tactic? It looks like he feels it would be dishonest to hide in the bushes and jump on the blasted pig next time he goes out for a stroll. He has to tell him beforehand, to give him a chance. Quite a gentleman. Not at all like the other wolves I know.
So the little Pig went off before the time, as usual, and got to the Fair, and bought a butter churn…
Wait what? Why would he need a butter churn? Does he have a cow? We were told nothing about that! He stole a cow, didn’t he? Well, at least he bought the churn.
…and was on his way home with it when he saw the Wolf coming. Then he could not tell what to do. So he got into the churn to hide…
And it’s big enough that he can fit in it? My God, he must have stolen a whole herd! Does Mr Smith knows that? Also, how can he carry, or work with, a churn bigger than himself? This pig is the center of some dark mysteries.
…and in doing so turned it round, and it began to roll, and rolled down the hill with the Pig inside it, which frightened the Wolf so much that he ran home without going to the Fair.
What is this monstrosity?
Poor wolf.
He went to the little Pig’s house, and told him how frightened he had been by a great round thing which came down the hill past him.
…and, and it chased me, and I called my mummy, and… and…
Aaaaaw, the dear creature! He clearly just wants a friend. And a squeaky toy. Go on pig, just tell him that he is a good boy!
Then the little Pig said, “Hah ! I frightened you, did I ? I had been to the Fair and bought a butter churn, and when I saw you I got into it, and rolled down the hill.”
You can tell the pig is all smugness and pride when he says that. Looking at the starving, scruffy wolf from his big brick house, wearing a monocle and a fob watch, and laughing at this peasant he almost ran over with his fancy car/butter churn. This tale is a straight up social commentary, it is!
Then the Wolf was very angry indeed…
Revolution! Socialism! Communism! Anarchy!!
COMRADES! TO THE BARRICADES!!
…and declared he would eat up the little Pig..
So he should!
…and that he would get down the chimney after him.
Once again, he feels obligated to tell his plan to the damn pig.
When the little Pig saw what he was about…
Well, he just told you, didn’t he?
…he hung on the pot full of water, and made up a blazing fire…
I don’t like where this is going.
…and, just as the Wolf was coming down, took off the cover of the pot, and in fell the Wolf.
…
And the little Pig put on the cover again in an instant, boiled him up, and ate him for supper…
…
HE ATE THE WOLF!! HE BOILED IT ALIVE!! This poor, nice wolf, who only wanted a friend, and who couldn’t help telling his plans out loud… He died in horrible agony, and was devoured! The pig! The pig! He killed it! I TOLD YOU HE WAS A VICIOUS MURDERER!
…and lived happy ever after.
There you go. Nice story. Nighty-night!”
The End.