Tag Archives: Three Little Pigs

My Memories of The Three Little Pigs

27 Jul

July 27, 2014

My Memories of The Three Little Pigs

An installment of Fairy Tale Theater

3 pigs

Once upon a time there were three pigs that lived in the woods and stop right there. The woods? Do pigs live in the woods? I don’t really know. In Lord of the Flies there’s a wild boar that lives on an island, and I know that for awhile people kept pot-bellied pigs as pets (why????) but do pigs live in the woods? I don’t know. I’m a city guy. I’ve only seen pigs in farms on TV. We must be talking about the same woods in which talking bears steal pic-a-nic baskets. And wear ties and porkpie hats.

So these three pigs, seemingly against all odds, lived in the woods. And to up the unbelievability ante, they A- talked, B- walked upright, and C- lived in their own, mortgage free houses. Plus they wore shirts but no pants, Porky Pig style.

Things were pretty good for these pigs. They were lazy and didn’t do a lick of work all day. Their houses were long-ago paid off, and their meals were brought in by local volunteers who delivered food to shut-ins. Oh sure, most days they spent by the pool drinking pina coladas and texting selfies to each other, but when it was time for their meals to arrive, they hopped in their totally unnecessary wheelchairs, affected coughs, and waited by their front doors, forks and knives at the ready.

Well, as you’d imagine, there were other people- er, animals- in the woods who were pretty mad at these 1 percenter pigs. One in particular, a wolf, had a real mad on and wanted to redistribute some of the pigs wealth right into his belly, preferably after roasting them over a spit. This wolf was once a part of the Occupy The Enchanted Forest movement, so you know he had never worked a day in his life. But really, can we blame him? If your parents had named you Big Bad, what chances of getting a job in a Fortune 500 company would you have? Will the New York Stock Market ever gain ten points at the thought of Big Bad Finklestein being named CEO of Bloomberg Media LLC? I think not. So go easy on The Big Bad Wolf. He’s a product of his environment.

One day The Big Bad Wolf was particularly hungry. He was also particularly smelly too, but hey, that’s just another day in the Occupy movement. So one day, as he watched one of the pigs lounging by his pool and ordering new smart phones to give out at Christmas to all his rich friends, the wolf reached his limit. That pig was just so fat and succulent that the wolf just couldn’t take it anymore. “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” he said, stealing one of Popeye’s catch phrases. He should have kept his mouth shut because that totally gave him away and the pig ran into his house, slamming the door right in The Big Bad Wolf’s face. (Snout? Whatever.)

Problem was, the pig’s house, like his fortune, was made out of straw. The pig wasn’t really a rich 1 percenter, and could only afford to build a house out of straw. All he cared about was appearances. And those smart phones he was ordering? He was way over his credit line anyway.

The wolf knew that no straw house would keep him out, so he huffed, and he puffed, and no, you really can’t blow a house of straw down, but he was able to more or less rip it apart with his bare hands. (Paws, claws, whatever.)

The pig ran off screaming.

The hungry wolf pawed through the straw but the only food he found was pimentos and Fresca. He took off after the pig, who had zoomed to his brother’s house and locked the door.

The second pig had done a little better for himself in the stock market and built his house out of wood, which I think we can all agree is much more sensible than straw. On the other hand, this pig was also a big Selena Gomez fan and spent a lot of time writing nasty letters to Justin Bieber, for which there was a restraining order against him. If he had spent more time on his investments and less time threatening Bieber he could have had a better home made of brick, but wood was still ok.

The wolf showed up and he was still determined to eat the pigs. Unfortunately, wood is a little harder to tear down than straw. The wolf tried to go in through the window, but the house was in a sketchy part of the forest and the windows were barred.

“Ha ha ha!” the pigs laughed, and it sounded just like that- ha ha ha, like in a comic book. “What are you going to do now, loser? Huff and puff and blow the house down?”

The wolf, being more of a wolf of action than words, took an axe and brought down the front door. “Heeeeere’s Johnny!” he cried, in a reference to Jack Nicholson in The Shining that most kids today won’t get. The pigs started squealing like, er, pigs, and ran out the back way.

The pair of bacony porkers ended up at the gated community where the third brother lived. There was a sauna and hot tub, and there was even a really good Thai restaurant so none of them had to leave if they didn’t want to. The Big Bad Wolf showed up but the security guards chased him off. He was last seen harassing Little Red Riding Hood, because seriously, what are the odds that there would be two wolves like this?

The moral of the story? Eat the rich is more than just an expression, some of them are full of flavor.


Fairy Tale Theater: Cinderella

13 Dec

December 13, 2013

It is the holiday season, so let’s look back on some of the classic fairy tales that have run on this blog.

fairy tale theater header

from March 7, 2012

Written for Saarah.

Cinderella is the story of a young girl who was horribly treated by her ugly wicked step-sisters. Her evil step-mother made her cook and clean and do all the chores for the household while her other daughters became lazy and obnoxious. They treated Cinderella like a slave, rather than a member of the family. She scrubbed the floors. She mended the clothes. She chopped the wood. She milked the cows. She even built a new barn from scratch. And that was before breakfast. Don’t ask what she did after lunch. (Here’s a hint: it involves her step-mother’s toes.) What happened to her real mother? I don’t know. Where was her father? I can’t say, but with a crazy shrew of a wife and three disgusting daughters, how long would you stick around?

One day the King threw a fancy ball at the castle. (And seriously, isn’t every ball thrown at a castle fancy? Have you ever heard of a casual ball at a castle? I never have, but then again, what do I know?) Every young woman in the kingdom was invited because the King was that type of guy. Actually, every young woman minus one was invited. Would you be shocked to believe that it was Cinderella? Yeah, like you didn’t see that coming. Anyway, the step-mother was eager to send her three daughters to the ball because the Prince was young and handsome and single. And rich. Filthy stinking rich. Occupy Wall Street would have had a field day in this kingdom.

Anyway, in the days leading up to the ball Cinderella spent her time doing her sister’s nails and hair. She waited on them hand and foot because of course the Prince would never want a woman who ever washed a single dish in her lifetime. Cinderella did everything you could possibly imagine for them, and some things it is better off that you can’t imagine. Hey, there is a reason they were a wicked and evil family.

So party night came and the three step-sisters went to the castle and Cinderella, with a rare night off, went back to her miserable straw cot in the basement behind the compost heap below the leaky pipe next to the puddle of mud and the colony of rodents. Frankly, it was better than where she used to sleep- on a rock in the bottom of the well.

Cinderella was young and beautiful and frankly a little naïve. She desperately wanted to go the ball and wished that her fairy godmother would help her go the castle. Why she didn’t wish for a better life with a normal family and no more pig slop is beyond me. Anyway, I said she was naïve (and maybe a bit dumb) so she wished for her fairy godmother to send her to the ball and sure enough, her fairy godmother turned up.

Her rags turned into a beautiful gown. A pumpkin became a coach and some mice that lived in her bed became coachmen. Of course there was a catch; Cinderella had to be back by the stroke of midnight. What kind of fairy godmother is that? Sheesh, give the kid a break. (That may be just the Disney version of the story. In the real version I am sure there was a goat. Every fairy tale back then had a goat.)

Cinderella crashed the party and no one recognized her, not even her snooty step-sisters. You see, the step-sisters paid so little attention to Cinderella that they actually thought her name was Consuela and she came from Brazil. In true fairy tale fashion Cinderella was the belle of the ball. She stole the Prince’s heart but the Prince, who may not have been too smart himself, never got her name and before you could say “dues ex machina” it was midnight and Cinderella had to jet out of there. She broke out of his embrace, ran down the stairs, jumped into the coach, and got home just as the last chime of midnight struck.

Remember I said she wasn’t too bright? Why was she in a hurry to get home???? Seriously, the Prince fell in love with her, and this was the era of love at first sight and people got married to Princes after only knowing them for a couple of minutes all the time, so why did she leave?????? Stay with the Prince!

She went home (a stupid move, in my opinion) and as she lay in her bed of muddy mice-infested straw she had only her memories of a night at the castle to keep her warm because she didn’t have a blanket or a quilt.

On the other hand, the Prince asked everyone he knew (and the Prince was a popular guy so he knew a lot of people) but no one knew the name of the woman who ran off the night before. The Prince was intrigued. He had women throwing themselves at him all the time but being pure and virtuous he spurned them all. Never before had a woman spurned him. (Hey, this could only be a fairy tale. In real life if the Prince spurned that many women you know there’d be rumors about him.)

Luckily, the Prince had a clue: a single glass slipper. For some reason, the fairy godmother gave Cinderella a pair of glass slippers to wear. You just know they weren’t comfortable. I bet Cinderella had huge blisters on her feet the next day. Cinderella was in such a hurry to get home (again, why?????) that she ran right out of her shoe and the Prince, who had a foot fetish, picked it up and after spending a night with the shoe that I will not speculate about he went from house to house to find the woman whose foot fit it. Luckily Cinderella was a rare size and no one else in the kingdom wore a size six. (This is what you call suspension of disbelief.)

The Prince tried the shoe on every single girl he could find and even a pretty cow (he was desperate) but none fit the transparent footwear. Regardless, he had a great time. Foot fetish, remember?

The last house he tried, naturally, was Cinderella’s but she was in the field pulling a plow with her teeth so she never saw the Prince. He tried the shoe on the first step-sister but it was too hot. The second step-sister was too cold. I may be mixing this up with the Three Little Pigs. Sorry. Anyway, none of them fit the shoe even though one of them sliced off her big toe to make her left foot fit.

Finally, sad and unloved but with a really sexy shoe (foot fetish) the Prince decided to give up when, across the field, with the setting sun in his eye and a rainbow above, he saw the sight that would change his life forever. He saw a dead moose.

The moose had fallen across the road and blocked the way to the castle so the royal party had to take a detour and when he turned around he nearly knocked down Cinderella, who was trudging home with a load of chicken fat on her back.

I am sure you can guess what happened next, but if you can’t, here are the bullet points:

  • The slipper fit
  • The Prince loved her feet
  • They got married
  • Cinderella got her revenge on her wicked step-family with a complicated death trap just like the ones in the Saw movies.

I guess I should wrap up my memories of Cinderella with “and they lived happily ever after” but I won’t. If you ask me Cinderella was not worth it. I ain’t sayin’ she a gold digger but she ain’t messin’ with no broke Prince.

If you would learn anything from the tale of Cinderella, please take my advice and read these parting words, from the Brothers Grimm translation: 

18 years, 18 years
She got one of your kids got you for 18 years
I know somebody paying child support for one of his kids
His baby mamma’s car and crib is bigger than his
You will see him on TV any given Sunday
Win the Superbowl and drive off in a Hyundai
She was suppose to buy you shorty TYCO with your money
She went to the doctor got lypo with your money
She walking around looking like Michael with your money
Should of got that insured got GEICO for your money
If you ant no punk holla we want prenup
It’s something that you need to have
‘Cause when she leave yo ass she gone leave with half
18 years, 18 years
And on her 18th birthday he found out it wasn’t his

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