Wolf Files - Case #307 The Three Pigs

It's an age-old tale told in a different light

Three raps echoed on the front door. A curious gaze went to the entryway. Who would visit this house at this time? The owner of the house turned the knob and opened the door.

The visitor on the other side was one that made the owner pale. Beneath the stylish aviators and Panama hat was an angular face with a mouthful of fangs. Pointed ears fitted comfortably beneath the hat, unbothered by the angle. The fur from the neck down was mostly concealed by the black blazer matching the hat. The tail was allowed to wag freely, flicking the coat lightly.

“Mr. Pig, you have been served.” The visitor handed an envelope to the alarmed owner.

“W-w-what is this? Who are you? What is going on?!” The littlest pig exclaimed.

“I’m Wolf. Blake Wolf. I’m from the Happily Ever After Association. I received complaints regarding the structure of your residence. Do you know one Ms. Bo Pip?”

The littlest pig stuttered, “Y-yes. She lives down in the next house over.”

The wolf continued. “It seems that some of the straw on your house blew off into her fields. Her sheep have run amok on numerous occasions causing the little lady a lot of distress. What do you have to say regarding this?”

“N-no, that can’t be right. I made sure the straw was properly twined together. I’ve made dozens of hay bales so I know what I’m doing.” The littlest pig proudly stated.

Blake Wolf removed his aviators revealing a pair of amber eyes staring deeply into the pigs.

“Mr. Pig, have you taken any courses in construction?”

The littlest pig snorted. “Didn’t need to. Daddy taught me everything I needed to know about everything. I know my construction just like I know my straw just like I know my hay bales.”

“Did Daddy also tell you a building permit is required when constructing new residences?”

“What?”

Blake explained. “Page 204, Section 5, Paragraph 7 of the Fairytale Homes and Hallows Regulations Act. New structures exceeding a minimum square footage of twenty feet requires the superintendent to be approved by the Association. When approved the Association will then mail you a Building Permit. Now Mr. Pig, do you have a building permit?”

The littlest pig was at a loss. “What if I said I did?”

“Mr. Pig, may I explain that you are in what some of us in the industry call “a real pickle”?”

“Wait, come on! There’s got to be a misunderstanding! Surely the Bureau can make an exception.”

Blake gave the littlest pig a big sigh. “Mr. Pig, the Association doesn’t allow for exceptions. Either you act in accordance or you will be fined.”

“Oh come on, straw isn’t even that dangerous!”

“Mr. Pig, your straw house acts in violation of 200 regulations. Your house is not structurally sound, it cannot support live or dead loads, and it is not even weather proof. What do you intend to do when winter comes?”

The littlest pig scoffed. “Easy, blankets and tarp!”

That was what ended Blake’s patience. “Mr. Pig, you leave me no choice. I will huff, I will puff, and I will call the demolition crew to blow your house down!”

“Hey you can’t do that!” The littlest pig argued, “I know my rights, I’ll call my lawyer!”

“I hope you do; you’ll be needing to discuss your wisest course of action.” Blake said departing from the straw house.

Log number 469, the culprit was a pig with an overinflated sense of competence. Without taking any of the necessary precautions, they built a house entirely of straw. No doubt the fine he receives will be pricey, but if he takes the best course of action available to him, he will avoid future inconvenience. Whether he actually does this remains to be seen. After all stupid people are convinced their smart.

Blake Wolf’s second assignment of the day was just down the road from the straw house. A house of sticks. While the structure in question did seem better assembled, Blake had his reservations. The fact that he had a second envelope said everything.

Anticipating the ridiculousness that was likely to unfold, Black knocked on the door made of sticks strapped together with twine. A surprised yelp burst from the other side. A ruckus of shuffling and banging followed after, along with a lot of cursing. The door swung open to a disheveled pig panting up a storm.

“Did I come at a bad time?” Blake asked.

“Oh, sorry I was ….” The pig glanced to the bong he was holding. He tossed it back inside the house.

“What brings a wolf to my neck of the dark woods?”

“Ha.” Blake blankly replied before handing over the envelope, “You have been served.”

“Wait, what?” The middle pigs’ reaction matched the littlest pig’s expression.

“The building inspectors reviewed your property and found multiple violations.” Blake explained.

“There’s no way that can be right.” The middle pig ripped open the envelope to examine its contents, “I got my building permit and took courses and everything!”

“Yes, about that. The Happily Ever After Association did a background check on you. It’s true you did take construction courses, you didn’t pass. As for your permit….”

“Oh, I have it right here!” The middle pig ran into the house. He was back out in a moment handing the document to Blake.

The paper, as Blake was able to discern, was forged. At a glance the document seemed legitimate, an amateur would not tell the difference. The hand writing was subtlety inconsistent, as if the hand which wrote it made a valiant effort to seem professional. The signature meant to approve the construction was less confident and lacked fluidity. Finally, the wax seal was also missing, the stamp issued by the Fairytale Homes and Hallows Association.

Blake took a closer look at the house of sticks. While seemingly sturdier than the straw house, there were sure signs of instability. Many sticks were held together with twine or rope, but some were loose in the wind. The only method of weatherproofing was tarping lining the interior of the house. Worse yet was the capsizing roof, kept together with rudimentary repairs. Definitely better than the straw house, but a long way from acceptable.

“Mr. pig.” Blake began, “How stupid do you think I am?”

The middle pig choked. “What? No, I don’t think you’re stupid at all!”

“Then explain to me why you’re trying to pass off this forged permit as a legal document?”

“Forged, what?! No, no, no, that can’t be right. I know this is the real permit for sure!”

“Are you telling me that if I call up Homes and Hallows right now, they’ll confirm they’ve sent an inspector for your project?”

The middle pig blanched. “A what now?”

Blake gave his most exasperated sigh. “If you did the process right, you would know that you would have to send in an application. Homes and Hallows would then send an inspector to examine your blueprints, survey the land, etcetera, etcetera. After you pass inspections, you are expected to pay a fee and promptly respond to any questions they ask you. Are you following me so far?”

“Um, y-yeah! I totally did all of those things you just said!” the middle pig nodded frantically.

“Of course you did. Mr. Pig, you are under suspect of fraud. I’m taking this-.” Blake gestured to the falsified permit, “As proof of misconduct.”

“Wait hold on now, let’s not be hasty-!” The middle pig swung his door wide open.

The minute he did, the door flew off its hinges. It sailed past Blake landing flat upon the open field. The middle pig stared long and hard at the incident, simply shocked. Blake glared at him through his aviators, unimpressed.

“Mr. Pig, you leave me no choice. I’m going to huff, I’m going to puff, and I’m going to call the demolition crew to blow your house down.”

The middle pig had no words. He offered only a defeated sigh, slumping towards his sad excuse for a house. He reached out to shut the door only to remember it lay several feet away. The middle pig kept walking to sit at his table, pick up his bong, and smoke.

Log number 470, my second assignment showed more promise but was another disappointment. This pig at least took the time to try and understand the craft. Whether it was sloppiness, greed or just plain laziness he did not put in the work. Now he is learning the consequences of cutting corners. Only the lucky ones can do that forever. As it turned out, he was not that lucky.

I’m just glad I only have one more assignment today. I can only hope this one is more competent than the previous two.

The final house on Blake’s to do list showed the most promise. A brick house held together with mortar, built on a stable foundation. The walls were straight, sturdy, and showing no signs of toppling. Scouting out the house revealed no lack of skill or competence. A house built by practiced hands.

Blake approached the front door taking note of the lion themed door knocker on the polished wood door. Taking the liberty to test the feature, Blake was impressed with the sound it created. It was only a moment before the pig resident of the establishment opened up.

“Ah, the Happily Ever After Association I assume. I was wondering when a representative was coming.” The eldest pig greeted with a polite nod.

Blake found himself pleasantly surprised by the pigs’ foreknowledge. He was even more surprised by the smells escaping the house.

“Oh sorry, I have an apple pie that finished baking. Would you care for a slice?”

Blake realized he was drooling. Mentally cursing his temptation, he aptly replied.

“Oh no that won’t be necessary. I’m just here for a quick review.”

“Oh, I insist. My building permit is inside, along with other relevant paperwork.”

Before he knew it, Blake was ushered inside the brick house by the eager pig.

The inside was more impressive than the outside. The brick walls were complimented by a smooth hardwood floor that matched. The architecture was seamless, professionally assembled while allowing for attractive features. Cozy furnishings dotted the space adding a great deal of personality. Blake noted the fur carpet before the fireplace with some concern.

“I hope you don’t mind the state of my place.” The eldest pig humbly said, “Even though I’ve been working on my house forever, this place is still a fixer upper.”

What really drew Blake’s eye was the frames on the wall. Proudly presented with a gold seal was none other than The Homes and Hallows Construction Certificate, an award only given to those who passed their apprenticeship. Two other certificates sat alongside the first. The Master Carpenters Fabled Seal and The Fairytales Architect, advanced rewards granted to those who passed the necessary courses.

“Please, grab a seat while I find the permit.”

Blake seated himself at the oak table spotting the pie at the center. It looked as delicious as it smelled with golden crust and steam escaping the holes.

“Ah here we are.” The eldest pig approached a nearby cabinet that blended in with the stylized house.

The eldest pig slid the document towards Blake. The wolf knew he didn’t need to look at it to know it was the real deal. Even when glancing at it, Blake couldn’t find any flaws. By all accounts the eldest pig underwent all the proper formalities to acquire this paper.

“I hope everything is in order?” The eldest pig sat across from Blake. A slice of apple pie had somehow appeared before the wolf along with a large roll of paper.

“Oh, I don’t need to see the blueprints.” Blake said claiming the pie, “I’m just here for the essentials. You would need an inspector for this.”

The eldest pig chuckled. “Sorry, I’m very cautious with this sort of thing. I know the Happily Ever After Association is very particular when safety.”

“I applaud your caution.” Blake said around a mouthful of pie.

“My brothers though.” The eldest pig sighed through his teeth, “They do not give a care about procedures or safety. I tried talking them into taking the courses, but only one of them actually took me up on it. Sadly, he didn’t even pass.”

“I heard.” Blake replied halfway through the pie.

“I’ve done what I could to be a role model for my brothers, but -.” The eldest pig shrugged.

“Hey, your brothers are grown adults. They made their choices; you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

The eldest pig nodded. “You’re right, but I can’t shake the guilt.”

“Better to not let that drag you down.” Blake polished off his plate before standing, “Anyways, I’ve done all I came to do. I’d best be off.”

The eldest pig saw him outside. With all of his assignments completed, Blake with off with a smile.

“Thanks for the pie Mr. Pig, it was delicious.”

“Give the Associations my regards. Thank you for your service!” The eldest pig waved.

“I’ll see it done.” Blake gave a final wave.

Turning to the road ahead, Blake was accompanied by the warm sunset. Another day, another dollar.

Log number 471, my final assignment left the day on a brighter note. The eldest of the trio displayed a level of competence most amateurs could only dream of. It’s a professionalism I strive for everyday. Honestly you could say I’m even jealous. The pig’s humility was the most surprising thing of all. How can someone look at a house like that and call it a fixer upper?

The smart ones know there is always someone smarter than them. The stupid ones think they are the smartest.

This is Blake Wolf signing out. The Happily Ever After Association is never short on work. A wolf needs to rest even when howling at the moon. I’ll be reporting soon enough.

---

How do you like this interpretation of The Three Little Pigs?

Do you like Blake Wolf as this interpretation of the Big Bad Wolf?

How would you reimagine The Three Little Pigs?