quite the classic tale

The cop tapped his pen on the top of the notepad he’d just used to write down Mr. Wolf’s statement.  He frowned as he glanced over the recounting and then looked up to see Mr. Wolf peering at him earnestly.  “Maybe you better walk me through it again?”

Mr. Wolf was immediately crestfallen.  He knew it sounded far fetched, that nobody was going to believe him, but he felt it was his duty to report the crime anyway.  It was the right thing to do.  He knew he had a bad reputation, but, in the end, he always did the right thing.  It was his nature.  It was the way of the world.

Shaking his head, he started from the beginning, “It was the Pig brothers.  I saw the youngest one steal from me.  In broad daylight, just walked in and walked right out.  When he noticed that I had witnessed the crime he fled to his own home.

“I followed him, of course, and tried to get him to knock on the door and return what he had taken from me, but he refused.  I lost my temper a bit and started howling, and since the youngest of the Pig brothers isn’t the greatest carpenter, his house fell apart without me even having to touch it.

“Somehow, he managed to sneak out before he became trapped in the debris, and I saw him race off to his older brother’s house.”

“His immediate older brother, or the the eldest?”  The cop interrupted, making sure he was getting the story straight.

“The middle one,” Mr. Wolf replied, somewhat exasperated.

When the cop made a twirling gesture with his pen, Mr. Wolf continued, “I knocked on his door too, and told them that I wouldn’t pursue the matter any further if they would just return it to me, but they just laughed at me.  Again, I started howling to vent my frustration and righteous indignation, and again the Pig’s house fell down.  I wouldn’t trust those two to build a birdhouse.

“Anyway, they managed to flee again, and I saw them raising to the eldest brother’s house and followed them again.  There, I pleaded for them to return what was mine, and they continued to laugh in response.  I knocked.  I begged.  I raged.  They refused to relent.

“So, here I am, filing a formal complaint against all three of them.”

The cop examined Mr. Wolf, again.  He seemed calm despite the situation, though there was a touch of nerves behind his sharp eyes.  And, an edginess to his whole demeanor that spoke to the tale being true.  Still, the cop was loathe to believe Mr. Wolf’s story.  There had never been any complaints filed against the Pig brothers before, and Mr. Wolf had an impressive history of getting into trouble.

In the end, he had to do his job.  “Okay, Mr. Wolf.  Thank you for filing the complaint.  I’ll have some uniformed officers head over to the eldest brother’s house to see if we can get their side of the story.”

When Mr. Wolf snarled and opened his snout to argue that the Pigs were not likely to corroborate anything he had just said, the cop held up a hand to silence him.  “Don’t worry, we know our job.  We’ll interview some of the neighbors, too.  And, I’ll start the paperwork to get a search warrant.”

At that, the cop looked through his notes and frowned again, and then looked back up to Mr. Wolf.  “I’ll need to know exactly what you saw the youngest brother steal so I can put that in the warrant, and I don’t seem to have that written down.  What did he take?”

“My dinner.”


Word Count: 619

Bonus points if you saw the punchline coming before you got to the end.  I’m not sure what you can do with them, but it’s always nice to have a stockpile of bonus points.  Anyway, this bit of silliness was written for this week’s Papi Prompt!:
What: 500-1000 word maximum flash fiction story
Use the following: The three little pigs vs the big, bad, wolf. But with a twist. The wolf is the victim. 
When: Due before next Monday (3/10/2014) to be included in the results.
How: Ping back to the Papi Prompt! post linked above.

How would you have rewritten this classic tale so that the wolf was the victim?  I’d love to hear it/read it!  So, what are you waiting for, write it, link it, post it!

10 thoughts on “quite the classic tale

    • I wanted it to be something different. But, I kept mixing up this story with Little Red Riding Hood in my head and everything I’d think, “oh, that’s a good idea,” was from the other story so wouldn’t be a good fit. And, after a few minutes of scratching my head, I said, “enh, dinner it is.”

And, begin:

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