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Refurbished Nursery Rhymes: Little Pig, Little Pig
When the wolf applied nicely If he could come in, The pigs replied thricely he shouldn't. Then they scratched at the hairs On their chinny chin chins, And tightly bolted the door so he wouldn't. But wolves, when out shopping, Are not easily put off, Even faced with the risks they are takin'. This one ignored the wheezing, And the nagging, rasping cough, In his lust for ham, pork chops, and bacon. First, he blew down the straw house, Then the one made of sticks, But by the third he was straining and grasping. It was a veritable fortress Of well-mortared bricks, And emphysema left him panting and gasping. With one last mournful howl, The wolf knew he was done And lay down in the driveway, embarrassed. The pigs regained their composure And called 911, But when the cops came, the wolf claimed he was harassed. The argument raged For an hour or more 'til the cops gave them all a citation. Still gasping for breath As he slunk from the door, The wolf was stopped by a squealed invitation. "Wolfie, oh, Wolfie, please won't you come in? We'd so like to have you for lunch." And he would have gone on and ignored the appeal, If he only knew that "ragout de loup" (pr. rah-goo duh loo) Was the entrée, but he had no hunch, And he was not one to pass up a free meal. When a wolf's sick and hungry, He might let down his guard And do dumb things a wolf shouldn't ought to. But for pigs, it's expedient To get the final ingredient Required for a tasty "wolf stew". The wolf's huffing and puffing Couldn't even come close To the pigs' stratagems and devices. After seven martinis, It still hadn't dawned on the dope That intelligence wasn't one of his vices. If he'd had more brains than brawn, This poor wolf might have known That the pigs never meant to surrender. They'd no more need to fear or hate him, They knew the booze would marinate him, So when they served him up and ate him, He'd be quite succulent and tender. If this tale has a moral, I'd like to propose That "three heads are better than one" be selected. In this case, not the one who worked the hardest, But the ones who worked the smartest, And as the little piggies guessed, The wolf was the perfect luncheon guest. Of course, their table manners weren't the best, So they still made pigs of themselves, as expected.
Copyright © 2024 Jim Slaughter. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things