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The Three Little Piggies
by Scott Teel
Once upon a time, there lived three little piggies. Actually, pigs had been abundant and living for quite some time, so that probably seems unremarkable, but read the rest of the story for further insights into these specific pigs.
 These pigs lived in little houses they had made for themselves. One had made his house from straw, for example. The second had made his house of twigs, thinking that if he made his house from straw, he could never invite his cow friends over because they’d eat his house. The third piggy had sprung for brick for his house, just to upstage his brothers. They were brothers, by the way.
One day, the pigs were each lounging in their homes when a wolf happened by. The wolf was partial to “the other white meat” so when he caught a whiff of those oinkers, he was drooling. Personally, I thought they smelled wretched when I whiffed them, but the wolf had his own tastes, and if he liked eating animals that rolled in feces all day, that was his prerogative. The wolf surveyed the three houses and approached the straw one.
“Knock, knooo-ooock,” he called in the window. “I’m here to eat you, please.” He was polite; there’s no reason you have to be nasty to your dinner. “Come on out porks.”
The little piggy was frightened, and called out, “Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!” forgetting that he had shaved that morning.
 The wolf would have let him be, but that phrase, “chinny-chin-chin” really irked him, it was so annoying, so he pursued the matter. He said “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in,” pleased with himself for the rhyme he made with “chin.”
It was at this point that the piggy started to think maybe straw wasn’t the best building material. The wolf huffed a huff and puffed a puff and blew the house in. Our little piggy friend was able to pull himself from the straw mound and run to his brother’s stick house, slamming the door behind him, and finding his brother watching a porno called Hoof in Mouth.
“For God’s sake, pull your pants up,” cried the first piggy.
“We don’t wear pants,” said the second pig. “I don’t even know why they have us wearing shirts in this tale, we’re pigs you know.”
And then they heard the wolf, yelling “Marco…”
“Polo!” yelled the stick pig.
 “Will you shut the hell up?” screamed his brother. “He wants to eat us.”
“Come on out, sausages,” said the wolf. The pigs both replied “Not by the hair on our chinny-chin-chins.” There was that annoying phrase again.
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!” the wolf cried, and he huffed a huff and puffed a puff and blew in the stick house. “I just wee-wee-weed myself!” cried the stick pig.
“Sounds like a typical day to me,” said his brother. The two pigs took off for their brother’s brick house and ran in, slamming the door. The houses must’ve been pretty damn close together for two porkers to outrun a wolf. “Don’t you two know how to knock?” asked the brick piggy.
“A wolf wants to eat us!” yelled his brothers.
“Oh, nice, so you decided to put me in jeopardy too,” said the brick pig. “Some family.”
“Okay guys, enough fooling around,” yelled the wolf. “Come on out, I’m in the mood for a three-course meal.”
The three piggies yelled back, “Not by the hairs on--”
“Yeah, yeah,” the wolf said. “the chin thing, I got it already. Well, I guess I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.” And he huffed a huff and puffed a puff and blew, but the house stayed up. “I wonder if I should quit smoking,” gasped the wolf to himself. “I’ll have to find another way in to those delicious pork chops.”
The three little piggies sighed a pig sigh of relief, but then the brick piggy had a thought. “You know,” he said to his brothers, “I think he might try to come in through the chimney.”
“You have a chimney?!” the others yelped.
“Yeah, it’s in the study. Across from the billiards room.”
 At this point, the wolf was eyeing the chimney, thinking he could probably fit through there into the house. He’d thought of just breaking a window with a rock, but it seemed such a shame to break such beautiful stained glass windows. So he made his way up to the chimney and hopped in.
But the piggies had a surprise for him. They had a big pot of boiling water in the fireplace. They had gotten a large pot of water boiling pretty quickly if you ask me, but that’s how the story goes, physics be damned. As the wolf clambered down the chimney, he got stuck, and the smoke from the logs boiling the water started making him cough. Pretty soon, he passed out and died in the chimney. Since the smoke was blocked by the wolf carcass, it started coming out of the fireplace into the house, and the piggies also quickly succumbed to it and died, too.
The Moral of the Story Is : Two out of three talking pigs don’t know how to build a house very well.
© 2005 Scott Teel |
