The Big Ad Wolf

By John Leatherman

Safe inside the brick house, the three little pigs exchanged high-twos as the sweaty, exhausted wolf slunk away in defeat.

Big brother Wally chuckled. “I knew all that huffing and puffing was just a bluff.”

Younger sister Trish hugged Wally. “You saved our pigskins.”

Youngest sister Carrie joined in the hug. “Wally, we were wolfed without you.”

Shrugging them off, Wally folded his forelegs. “Well, you’d have been fine as swine if you’d listened to me in the first place.” He strutted around the living room. “Do you still like straw, Carrie? And Trish, sticks still working for you?”

Carrie sighed. “You were right. We should’ve used brick, Wally.”

“We’re sorry,” Trish added.

“You definitely are sorry. Sorry excuses for pigs.” Wally preened. “More proof that I’m the brains behind This Little Piggy Marketing. I came up with all the best slogans. ‘Get Your Kicks with Jack’s Candlesticks’? That was mine. ‘Granny’s Got Good Goodies’? ‘Miss Muffet’s Curds are Whey Better’? Both mine. The peasants of Grimmshire wouldn’t know what to buy without me.”

Trish frowned. “Well, I had ‘St. Ives Thrives.’”

Carrie nodded. “And I thought of ‘Try Simple Simon’s Pie, Man.’”

“Of course you two thought of the simplest ones. Because you’re dumb as bricks.” Wally paused. “I mean straw and sticks.”

Carrie sniffled. “Wally, please. We apologized.”

“Can’t you forgive us?” Trish fought tears.

“You’re crying now?” Wally scoffed. “Go cry wee-wee-wee all the way home! Oh, wait—you don’t have homes.”

Trish collapsed against Carrie. “Wally, we can’t stay here if you’re always mad at us.”

Wally waved his hoof toward the door. “Fine. Pig out!”

The ungrateful sisters hobbled away.

Grinning wide, Wally watched them recede into the forests of Grimmshire. Good riddance. He didn’t need them.

So, why did he still feel angry inside? He slumped over the windowsill and sighed.

Could that be the problem? For all its beautiful bricks, the house still had windows. And a door. As long as he could see out, they could get back in.

The next day, Wally hauled out his remaining bricks and sealed the windows. He covered most of the front entrance and left a small locking hoggie door, scarcely wide enough for him to squeeze through.

He wandered his dim, gloomy house, muttering to himself. “Still angry. Must need more bricks.”

Over the next week, Hamazon brought bundle after bundle of beautiful bricks. Wally built barriers, labyrinths, and increasingly taller walls. Every night he retreated inside, hoping for peace over his dinner—always a brick of Brie and a tub of Butter Brickle.

Yet still the anger would stick with him. Was he clutching at straws?

“I must not have enough bricks yet.”

Trouble was, he’d run out of money. He needed a new client soon.

Shrouded in the shadows of his windowless fortress, Wally plopped down at his desk and studied the latest leads from around Grimmshire. “So, the Piper boy, Pete, needs a slogan for a new item at his boutique: briny jalapenos, sold in large, economical one-peck cartons. Hmm…”

Wally stared at the ceiling and grumbled. “I got nothing.”

A knock at the door interrupted his frustration. Wally leaped from his chair. Was it another brick delivery? That would certainly make him happy.

He checked the peephole, then recoiled at the sight of the wolf. “You again? You couldn’t blow in my house before, and I’ve got more bricks now. Go away.”

Trish’s voice came through the door. “It’s okay, Wally.”

“He wasn’t trying to eat us,” Carrie added. “He’s actually vegan.”

“What?” Eyes bugged, Wally wriggled through the door.

With a deep sigh, the wolf hung his head. “Sorry about that whole huffing-and-puffing stuff. I was selling hazard insurance. Just demonstrating what could happen when you’re not properly insured.”

Wally frowned. “That’s a terrible marketing strategy!”

Eyes downcast, the wolf nodded. “I know that now. Your sisters helped me re-brand.”

Trish showed Wally a flier: “Get your mortar crumbling! Get out on the drywall! You’ll be torn into piles with Step N. Wolf Precision Demolition.”

Step N. Wolf offered his paw to Wally. “At your service.”

Wally gasped. “You hired my sisters?”

Step nodded. “Oh, yeah.  They’ve really got a sow’s ear for marketing. Even if their office is a pigsty.”

Wally blinked in disbelief. “Trish? Carrie? How could you work for him after what he did to you?”

Carrie shrugged. “It was easy once we forgave him.”

Step tipped his hat to Wally. “Good day, Sir. If you need anything demolished, just cry wolf, and we’ll blow you away.” He turned to Trish and Carrie. “Lunch is on me, girls. Who’d like a fresh-picked peck of Peter Piper’s pickled peppers?”

Wally’s jaw dropped. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

As his sisters left foreleg in foreleg with Step, Wally finally got it. He didn’t need bricks. He needed his family. Not only did he miss them, he couldn’t be successful without them. Why had he hogged all the credit?

He ran after them. “Wait! Step, I want you to blow my house in.”

The three stopped and looked back, eyes wide.

“Are you sure?” Trish shouted. “You love your house. It’s made of brick.”

“You’ve reminded us of that several times.” Carrie frowned.

Wally sighed. “I know. But it shuts you out. I don’t want to do that anymore… because I forgive you. Sorry I was so person-headed.”

Overjoyed, Carrie and Trish ran to hug Wally.

Step huffed and puffed with delight and began his survey of the job. “Mmm, what big eyesores you have! I’m gonna need a lot of dynamite.”

So Step blew up the brick prison, and Wally built a new house—still brick, of course, but with a big, easily opened door. Trish, Carrie, and Step were welcome anytime. The pigs relaunched their ad agency, and they all lived happily ever after.

Except for Step. Granny wasn’t quite as forgiving about her goody shop, grabbed an axe, and chased him out of the forest.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

John Leatherman is a longtime member and former officer of Word Weavers International (Orlando chapter) who has won multiple awards from the Florida-Georgia chapter’s annual Tapestry contest. He has written book reviews for Christian Retailing and word games for International Puzzle Syndicate. A freelance writer, editor, cartoonist, and cruciverbalist, Mr. Leatherman maintains a secret identity as a software consultant with two kids.

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