I decided to start the year with writing just for the heck of it. It may not be all that palatable, but first drafts are always a bit bizarre.
Once there were three pigs, brothers from the same litter, who set off in the world to find their individual purposes and identities. Because they had grown up in the agricultural industry, they were familiar with animals and food recycling (what the farmers called slop), but they were also fascinated with building. They had seen barns, homesteads and silos while growing up in the wallow, and they decided to each try their hands at the construction industry.
The first pig was the eldest, and he built his sample home from bricks. The second pig used lumber to construct a log cabin style home. The third pig kept ecologically sound building materials in mind and used straw and biodegradable materials for his home.
The head of the licensing board, B. B. Wolf, was a money- and power-hungry deviant with anti-pig issues. When he arrived at the third pig’s home, he produced a jackhammer and punched a hole into the straw house, accused the pig of several EPA violations, and ate him.
At the second pig’s home, Wolf brought along a summons from a lawyer friend of his, accusing the pig of ethics violations because the notion of having people live as Abraham Lincoln did in the old South might leave the impression of a recidivist pre-civil rights mindset in the housing industry. When the pig came out to receive the summons, he was also eaten.
When Wolf reached the home of the last pig, he was impressed with the excellent quality of the workmanship he saw in the sample home, but his attitude wasn’t swayed one bit.
As he looked in the window and saw that the pig kept a pot of water boiling in the fireplace, he set up an elaborate scheme against the pig. He went to the wolf morgue and stole some remains, brought them back to the pig’s house and sneakily sent them down the chimney into the pot, then called the police to report a murder. The pig was taken away for questioning while the forensics team tried to decipher the evidence. Eventually the pig was sentenced to ten years in the pigpen, and the plans for the brick house were outsourced overseas.
Unfortunately B. B. Wolf never saw a penny of his ill-gotten brick home plans. A diet of too much raw pork killed him within 18 months, and a building conglomerate took over the plans to build new brick homes in underdeveloped pigsties.
There is no moral to this story, but I wonder what boiled wolf would be like, don’t you?
Susan's Scribblings the Blog 