The True Story of the Three Little Pigs

Everybody knows the story of the three little pigs. Or at least they THINK they do! I'll let you in on a little secret. Nobody knows the real story, because nobody has ever heard MY side of the story!

I'm the wolf. Alexander T. Wolf. You can call me Al. I don't know how this whole Big Bad Wolf thing got started, but it's all wrong. Maybe it's because of our diet. Hey, it's not my fault wolves eat cute little animals like bunnies and sheep and pigs. That's just the way we are. If cheeseburgers were cute, folks would probably think you were Big and Bad too!

But like I was saying, the whole Big Bad Wolf thing is all wrong. The real story is about a sneeze and a cup of sugar. Way back in Once Upon a Time time, I was making a birthday cake for my dear old granny. I had a terrible sneezing cold. I ran out of sugar. So I walked down the street to ask my neighbor for a cup of sugar. Now this neighbor was a pig. And he wasn't too bright either. He had built his whole house out of straw. Can you believe it? I mean who is his right mind would build a house of straw?

So, of course, the minute I knocked on the door it fell right in. I didn't want to just walk into someone else's house, so I called, "Little Pig, Little Pig, are you in?"
No answer. I was just about to go home without the cup of sugar for my dear old granny's birthday cake.

That's when my nose started to itch. I felt a sneeze coming on. Well, I huffed. And I snuffed. And I sneezed a great sneeze. And do you know what? That whole darn straw house fell down!! And right in the middle of the pile of straw was the First Little Pig - dead as a doornail. He had been home the whole time.

It seemed like a shame to leave a perfectly good ham dinner lying there in the straw. So I ate it up. Think of it as a big cheeseburger just lying there.

I was feeling a little better. But I still didn't have my cup of sugar. So, I went to the next neighbors' house. This neighbor was the First Little Pig's brother. He was a little smarter, but not by much. He had built his house of sticks.

I rang the bell on the stick house. Nobody answered. I called, "Mr. Pig, Mr. Pig, are you in?"
He yelled back, "Go away Wolf. You can't come in. I'm shaving the hairs on my chinny chin chin."
I had just grabbed the doorknob when I felt another sneeze coming on. I huffed. And I snuffed. And I tried to cover my mouth, but I sneezed a great sneeze.

And you are not going to believe it, but this guy's house fell down just like his brother's. When the dust cleared, there was the Second Little Pig - dead as a doornail. Wolf's honour.

Now you know food will spoil if you leave it out in the open. So I did the only thing to do. I had dinner again. Think of it as a second helping.

I was getting awfully full. But my cold was feeling a little better, and I still didn't have that cup of sugar for my dear old granny's cake. So, I went to the next house.

This guy was the First and Second Little Pig's brother. He must have been the brains of the family. He had built his house of bricks.

I knocked on the brick house. No answer. I called, "Mr. Pig, Mr. Pig, are you in?"
And do you know what that rude little porker answered?
"Get out of here, Wolf. Don't bother me again."

Talk about impolite! He probably had a whole sackful of sugar. And he wouldn't give me even one little cup for my dear sweet old granny's birthday cake. What a pig!

I was just about to go home and maybe make a nice birthday card instead of a cake, when I felt my cold coming on. I huffed. And I snuffed. And I sneezed once again. Then the Third Little Pig yelled, "And your old granny can sit on a pin!"

Now I am usually a pretty calm fellow. But when somebody talks about my granny like that, I go a little crazy.

When the cops drive up, of course I was trying to break down this Pig's door. And the whole time I was huffing and puffing and sneezing and making a real scene.

The news reporters found out about the two pigs I had for dinner. They figured a sick guy going to borrow a cup of sugar didn't sound very exciting, so they jazzed up the story with all that "Huff and puff and blow your house down" and they made me the Big Bad Wolf.

That's it. The real story. I was framed.

Story by A. Wolf (as coached by Johnny Cochran...aka... OJ's Lawyer)


Can you give me a push?

A man is in bed with his wife when there is a rat-a-tat-tat on the door. He rolls over and looks at his clock, and it's half-past three in the morning. "I'm not getting out of bed at this time," he thinks, and rolls over.

Then, a louder knock follows. "Aren't you going to answer that?" says his wife. So he drags himself out of bed and goes downstairs. He opens the door and there is a man standing at the there. It doesn't take the homeowner long to realize the man is drunk.
"Hi there," slurs the stranger. "Can you give me a push?"
"No, get lost! It's half past three! I was in bed!" screams the man as he slams the door.

He goes back up to bed and tells his wife what happened. She remarks, "Dave, that wasn't very nice of you. Remember that night we broke down in the pouring rain on the way to pick the kids up from the babysitter and you had to knock on that man's house to get us started again? What would have happened if he'd told us to get lost?"
"But the guy was drunk," says the husband.
"It doesn't matter," explains the wife. "He needs our help and it would be nice to help him."

So, the husband gets out of bed again, gets dressed, and goes downstairs. He opens the door but he can't see the stranger anywhere in the dark, so he shouts, "Hey, do you still want a push?"

He hears a voice cry out, "Yes, please."
"Where are you?"shouts the homeowner.
The stranger calls back, "I'm over here, on your swing."


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