Monday, September 7, 2015

Three Pigs, part 3

The third pig was named Trio, for his mother had little imagination, and he too traveled his own path.  Before he left, however, he cleaned his shirt, pressed his trousers and arranged for his mother to give him a good haircut, for cleanliness is next to godliness, or so he was taught.

He traveled at his ease, singing a song his mother taught him, taking the path his brothers had not, and strolling at his leisure.  After a time, without him breaking a drop of sweat, he strolled past a farmer.  The farmer ask him, “Sir pig with the golden locks, might you transport this load of bricks to the dump for me?”  

Trio laughed and said, “I shall make my money lighter than that load you offer.” 

Then, just before him, he saw a penny on the ground.  He picked it up, placed it in his lined pocket and said, “A penny saved is a penny earned!” 

The farmer looked at him with new eyes and said, “You are wise, sir pig, and I would wish to know your wisdom.” 

Trio said, “Talk is cheap, but wisdom is expensive.  Should you wish to know my wisdom, it will cost you three gold coins.” 

The farmer replied, “It is worth three coins to obtain words which might bear me ten,” and he handed over three coins.

Trio then explained to the farmer all the sayings he had from his mother: “Good things come to those that wait,” “Ask not what your country do for you, but what you can do for your country,”  “Put your money where your mouth is,”  “Dance to the beat of a different drummer,”  He taught him how to “make a mountain out of a mole hill,” and  how to “keep up with the Jones” and many other sayings with helpful explanatory commentary by Trio himself.  Somehow, he failed to tell the farmer  how not to “not throw pearls before swine,”  so at the end of the hour, the farmer gave Trio three more coins.

He then said, “This is wisdom beyond measure, Sir Pig.  Might I gather some of my friends to listen to your speech?” 

Trio said, “As long as they have three coins each to give for the wisdom.”  The Farmer had learned much already from Trio and explained how they could all listen to Sir Pig for only four coins each.

It was not long before Sir Pig (as Trio is now known) spoke ten lectures a week, had a book deal and was signed up for a television show.  As soon as he had a moment to breathe (for he was so popular he had to hire an assistant to catch his breath), he hired a contractor to take the pile of bricks he was originally offered, and many, many more, and they were built into a massive, secure fortress for Sir Pig.  He was so popular, he needed a place of solitude, so he made sure the walls had extra insulation, the roof was extra secured and the doors and windows extra thick.

Every evening, when he wasn’t out of town, he locked his doors, secured his windows, closed the fireplace flue, and played classical music quite loud, for the improvement of his soul.  

Prime finally wandered back home, and found this brick palatial fortress.  He knocked at the door, and begged for Trio to open the door, but this was Friday, Trio’s Richard Wagner evening, so he couldn’t hear anything beyond his headphones.

This very night Wolf attacked.

He had heard about this brick palace, and Wolf decided that it was a night in which stone might finally fill his always-empty belly.  His deep darkness, blowing wind and sucking entrance into another dimension surrounded the house and Wolf called out, “I am the wolf, little pig, and you will let me in.”

Trio focused on the Ride of the Valkyries, hearing nothing else.

Wolf spoke again, “You have no future.  I am the vortex.  I am the fear no on escapes.  I am the power of the end.  You cannot avoid me.  Chaos and Death follow me in my wake.  Breathe in, little pig and know that my darkness descends.”

Trio shook his imaginary baton to Der Tannenbaum.

Wolf spun and sputtered and screamed and spoke in his most thunderous tones, “What care I for your petty bricks and music!  I am the Devourer!  I only care for you as the tiny morsel you are.  Now I descend.”  So he descended and raged and blew and burst and sucked and caused great violence.  To no avail.   Wolf raged until he realized that he wouldn’t make a dent against the house, nor would Trio even give him a hint of the fear he so greatly desired. 

So Wolf traveled on, saying to himself, “The pig is probably sour. Not worth my time.”

As he stepped aside, he found Prime, easily for Trio had cleared out all vegetation and stone so they wouldn’t block his view of the sunset.  Wolf took satisfaction in quickly devouring Prime, for a pig in the mouth is better than two in a brick house.

Prime screamed and yelled and begged for his brother to let him into his fortress.  But to no avail, for screams are as silent as threats on the inside of a fortress.

Meanwhile, Trio stopped the music and spoke aloud to himself.  “I wonder how my brothers are doing?  I wonder if they had as good fortune as I?”  He then chided himself for his doubt.  “I am sure they are doing well.  After all, they are both hard workers, have the same wisdom from our mother as I, and have great integrity… indeed! Greater integrity than I!  I am sure that they have all the security and peace they could ever want.”

And Trio placed the headphones upon his ears again and descended into Wagner’s funeral music. 

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