By: Rory
Last Updated on: November 28, 2021
Photo by: Jonathan Cooper / Unsplash
You’ve heard about the classic fable, The Three Little Pigs. You’ve also heard about the reinterpretation, The True Story About the Three Little Pigs. Written by my cousin Alexander T. Wolf, his viral story ended up on the headlines of the Daily Wolf --the newspaper every wolf must read every morning. When my cousin’s story was published, he was immediately bombarded by phone calls from his parents and relatives; they were so happy to finally see a voice stand up against the Daily Hog’s garrulous, deceptive articles that relentlessly and ruthlessly tainted the wolves’ reputation. We weren’t that bad, definitely not as bad as the pigs, that’s for sure. It’s not our fault that our diet consists of innocent animals, portraying us as the evil villains that try to take over the world but get driven away by the hero, never to be seen again. “Ah shoot, I can’t find my phone charger anywhere.” I muttered, exasperatedly tossing my clothes and devices into my suitcase. Why was I packing my things, you may ask? Long story short, my mom wanted me to go stay with my famous cousin for a while and gain some writing experience as a fellow aspiring author. I reluctantly agreed to her plan since I wasn’t close with Alexander nor did my lazy couch potato self want to spend the entire summer break working on some shabby novel. I held onto the suitcase’s zipper and used all of my might to close it up, yelling, “Come on! Zip up!” “Honey, how’s your packing going? It’s nearly time to go!”, my mom called. 3 hours later, I was shaken awake by my mom, “Wake up.” As I blinked my heavy eyelids open, I groaned in response and quickly wiped the drool crawling down my chin, causing her to chuckle at my half-asleep condition. Then, I escaped the passenger seat and stopped by the entrance of the Alexander T. Wolf. Ugh, I can’t wait to waste two months here. My train of thoughts were suddenly interrupted by loud footsteps behind me, only for it to be my mother struggling to carry my luggage. “What in the world do you have in here?!” “Don’t worry Aunt Mary, I’ll help!” a distant voice chirped up. Great, he’s finally here. “Don’t just stand there Alec! While I help your mother with the luggage, you can go settle in the blue bedroom upstairs.” Alex said, beaming at me happily. I rolled my eyes and headed towards the room, slumping onto the mattress surface of my bed. After resting on it for a moment, I felt a jolted buzz in my pocket: it was an incoming call from an unknown number. Huh, that’s weird. “Hello, who is it?” “Hey Alec, it’s me!” Of course. “What do you want?” “I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but I was suddenly called down to my office. But, by all means, make yourself feel at home! If you have any questions, say them right now because I will have to turn off my phone, unfortunately.” “Oh don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” “Okay, bye!” “..bye.” And like that, Alex immediately declined. I threw my phone onto the soft bed and pulled out my laptop from my suitcase. Just as I logged in, I noticed a pop-up on the side of the screen that notified me to connect to the Wi-Fi network. My heart dropped. No, no, no, this cannot be happening. I clenched my fists in frustration, regretful that I hadn’t asked Alex earlier while I still had the chance. What is even more fortuitous is that I had used up all of my phone’s mobile data, just great. In a crouched position, ruminating over my loss of wifi for nearly 8 hours, I quickly stood up and grabbed my mask. I’m not going to be wasting my time. I will go to Alex’s neighbours and ask to borrow their wifi temporarily. Yes, I can do that --I’m not a timid baby anymore. Securing the loops around my head and heading outside, I felt a tingling jolt in my nose. I tried to stifle back a sneeze, in fear of others presuming that I have gotten the COVID-19 virus. Don’t worry, I didn’t. I got tested - which thankfully, my results came out as negative - and got vaccinated recently as well. It’s unfortunate that I have mild allergies to grass and pollen. I spun on my heel to sharply steer towards the right, making my way towards another house that looked quite similar to Alex’s. Except, it had a door made of hay. Very odd. I precariously walked up the steps of the porch, taking deep breaths to ease my anxiety around strangers. Hand slightly trembling at the doorbell, which was also made of hay, I grimaced at the loud blaring noise the button made. The tension of silence grew thick, up until I heard a grunt, an unwelcoming greeting to my presence, from a...pig? I cleared my throat, putting on a polite voice, “Hi there. Sorry to bother you, I’m Alexander T. Wolf’s cousin and I can’t get access to the Wi-Fi at his house. Could I borrow yours for some time?” Small, deadpanning hazel eyes peeked out of a narrow gap between the ajar door and the dusty hay door frame. No response. “Uh, hello?” When my voice inflected on the last word, a stirring sneeze arose from my nose. “Ah-ah-ah-ah-ACHOO!”, I hoarsely exclaimed. This was deja-vu: the big, bad wolf just huffed and puffed the hay door down, making the pig squeal in terror, “Aaaaah, not again! I’m going to become eaten!!” In a flash, I see the pig escaping his home at Usain Bolt speeds. I tried to stop him and hollered, “No, I’m sorry, wait! I just wanted some Wi-Fi, please come back! There is nothing to be afraid of, I won’t eat you! I’m vegan, for God’s sake!” Several heads popped out of open windows, scanning the neighbourhood for the cause of commotion. I only looked down in embarrassment to avoid their glances and made my way to the nearest house, whose door also happened to be made of sticks. Wow, I guess this whole recurring theme of the classic folktale and door material really is just so perfect, huh? Guess what? The exact same thing happened at the second house with stick doors. As what felt like years passed by, I finally arrived at the colossal brick house, or mansion I should say, and met an opened entrance. I cautiously stepped towards it, hearing my seemingly loud footsteps echo and ring in my ears. “Welcome”. I whipped around to discern where the voice came from, only to see a pig dressed in formal attire, of course with his mask on. He continued, “I’m deeply sorry for my brothers’ actions. Yes, the brothers I’m referring to are the ones who live in houses with doors made of hay and sticks.” Two other pigs shyly entered the scene while the eldest pig spoke, “It seems that after Alexander T. Wolf's story was published, I thought those two would learn their lesson, but I was mistaken. It was blatantly wrong of us to quickly judge you based on your (wolf) appearances, especially when you stated that you were vegan, abided by social distancing rules, and was quite friendly. As an apology on our behalf, I can lend you my home’s Wi-Fi. We can have a video call later on, so we can get to know each other well --how does that sound?” I grinned from ear to ear, “That sounds good! I can’t wait! Here’s my email…” All four of us exchanged emails and met up virtually that evening, whilst Alex was still at work. “Bye! See you next week!” I ended the call session, getting up from my seat. “Alex?” I flinched at the sight of his figure leaning at my room’s doorway. “I see you’ve made yourself some new friends! Good to hear that, what a great way to launch the summer break. I’m proud of my little cousin!” he said while ruffling my hair. I cut him off, “Stop! Geez, thanks for the support though. I’m happy to help someone stop being prejudiced towards others.”