The three little pigs

Once upon a time there were three little pigs. Alright I know you’ve probably heard a three little pigs story before but this one is different. Really!

Now these pigs each lived on the same farm in different fields. The first one built his house from a lot of straw that was lying around.

The second one built his house at the edge of his field near some trees. There were lots of twigs on the ground dropped by birds who were trying to build their nests. So as the twigs were there he thought they would save him a lot of trouble if he used them.

The third one built his house from bricks because he lived right on the edge of the farm near a new housing estate that was being built. So he didn’t have to go too far to collect all the bricks he needed.

Now as you’d expect the straw house was blown away by the first strong wind that came along. The pig that lived there ran over to his brother in the twig house and asked if he could stay because he had nowhere left to live now. The second brother grumbled at him a bit, but the next day was fine and so together they collected up lots more twigs and built an extension for the first brother to live in.

The brothers in the twig house got along perfectly for a while, but they’d picked up nearly all the twigs that the birds were expecting to use to build their nests. It wasn’t too long before the birds wanted to build some new nests for their chicks to be born in, so before long the pigs’ house was letting in water through the roof every time it rained.

There was only one thing for it. Off went the two brothers through the hedge and across the field to the third brother’s house that he’d made out of bricks. He agreed to let them stay provided they helped him build an extension for them both to live in.

“Bricks are jolly heavy,” he said, “and you’ve got to be careful that nobody on the housing estate catches you.”

So the pigs took it in turns to cross over to the building site every night when it got dark and before long they had enough bricks to begin building.

As you might have gathered by now, none of the pigs had been trained as builders. So the brick house pig made himself foreman and told his brothers where they should put the new bricks. Before long two new extensions were put together and every body moved into the house.

Shortly after they’d all moved in together a wolf happened to pass by. Very strangely for this sort of story he was a well fed kindly wolf. When he saw the heap of bricks that the pigs called home, he could see a way of making a lot of money for both himself and the pigs. The bricks had just been stacked with a bit of an overlap to make tunnels inside the heap. The whole thing was an absolute mess. Why they hadn’t even tried to use cement to hold it all together.

The house didn’t even have a front door. The wolf stayed around for a minute or two before a pig came out.

“Can I help you?” asked the pig.

“Well sir,” replied the wolf, “it did strike me that your beautiful house is in just the sort of condition to make a lot of money.”

“That would be nice,” said the pig, “there are several things we would really like to do to make it more comfortable.”

‘Like doors, windows and a waterproof roof,’ thought the wolf.

“It seems to me sir that you would be able to make money,” he said out loud,” if you allowed me to arrange an insurance policy for your dwelling.”

He took the pig for a walk across the fields and showed him the house where the farmer lived. The pig had never seen anything like it before. “It’s so tall,” he said in amazement.

The wolf told him that it wasn’t necessary to live in such a tall building, but that there were smaller houses called bungalows that were more suitable for pigs. He also explained how insurance policies worked and once he’d convinced the pig that they were a good thing, he went off to arrange the paperwork.

All he did really was to go and see a group of Gypsies who were travelling through the neighbourhood. Now as you all know Gypsies and the woodland folk live the same sort of lives together and they could talk and understand each other.

The wolf explained his plan, so the gypsies printed an imposing looking insurance certificate on a computer. Next the gypsies went round to the brick house and once they’d stopped smaning at the pile of bricks the pigs called home, talked to the pigs and explained what they proposed.

“The wolf has insured your lovely house with us but says you really need a suitable bungalow to live in.” They went on to tell the pigs that breeze blocks were far more suitable for buildings and they were prepared to build them such a dwelling for nothing and take the old bricks away in payment.

This sounded wonderful to the pigs and they all agreed without any hesitation. The gypsies happily sold the bricks back to the housing estate and paid for some things that the pigs wanted out of the profits.

The wolf was paid in chickens on the condition that he followed the gypsies wherever they went for a year, so he was happy.

The gypsies had got rid of a load of old breeze blocks that they hadn’t been able to sell and made a lot of money selling the bricks. They kept the wolf happy by giving him stolen chickens that they would have taken anyway, so they were happy.

The pigs of course were very happy and lived in their new house until the farmer came into the field one day and took them to the butchers who turned them into lots of sausages. So the farmer was happy.

He also got the next group of gypsies that came into the area to clear up a load of old breeze blocks that he found dumped in one of his fields.