The Three Little Pigs

 

 

Some things never change, even if you want them to, they don’t, because that is just the way life is! I am the oldest of three boys, and my name is Isaac, my family is a complete shame to me. Although I have never received Harvard or Yale degree, I have visited the institutions many times and greatly appreciate their lavatorial services on which I sat while studying for the majority of my university exams. I do however hold in my position a degree of architecture from the university of Manitoba.

 

Next in the line of my relatively short family lineage is Frank. As far as I can remember, Frank has never held a steady job in his life, and I have absolutely no faith in him that he can, he must there for leach off of anyone, including elderly relative and neighbours, along with complete strangers who will give him even a crumb. Frank is, in all aspects, a bum!

 

Let me draw a simple, yet satisfying analogy of how Frank, my older little brother, relates to the stoner in almost every teen movie. Frank has never held a steady job. The stoner has a hard time getting up enough energy to remove himself from in front of the TV long enough to go out and look for a job. Once frank has a job worth keeping, he gets thrown out of the place not a few days later for stealing anything from office supplies, to frozen pizzas! The stoner gets kicked out of his house for stealing money from his parents, then when they ask if he smokes pot, tells them, “ya man…but don’t tell mom and dad…they’ll kill me…oh…wait…you are dad…hu…geez…wow…I guess I’m busted eh?”

 

The youngest, and dumbest of my brothers, whom under other circumstances I would admit no relation, is Ralph. The reason I refer to him, as the dumbest is the fact that against my advice, he built his house out of straw! OUT OF STRAW!  This factor made his house weaker then Frank’s, and certainly weaker then my own house. As well as building a weak house, Ralph also a gambling problem. I find his problem a little humorous if the truth were told. I would call it more of a curse then a petty problem! You see, he has no problem winning, it is loosing that he is not able to achieve! He wins so much, he has become a little, cocky. I won’t go into details, there fore hope fully sparing you the horrendous bore, but he made one bet that went sour, and ended up running for his life.

 

I can say for sure what exactly happened, but apparently Ralph’s house was busted up pretty bad, which is easy to believe when you stop to consider that he built it out of STRAW! Ralph ran to Frank’s, Frank’s house did not hold up much better.  So the two numbskulls decided to bring their troubles over to my house. So they come over banging and yelling, “hey…let us in…please…we need help…again…”

 Of course being the good older brother that I am, I let then in, only out of fear that if I hadn’t, they would have ended up dead, or at least severely beaten which would not have been so bad if they had at least had some sense beaten into them. Soon after, they were followed by Ralph’s bookie.

“Listen up you *#&^@! I’m gonna get my money one way or another…ya hear?!”

Next thing I know, the $#*! is on my roof!

“Hey!” I yelled, “ Get of my roof!”

 

Perhaps the one smart thing that Ralph ever did, or ever will do was to build a fire in my fireplace, which is interesting, considering the fact that up until that day, I was completely unaware that I even had a fireplace. When I asked him why he did it, his reply was appropriately simple, “ well ya see Isaac,” he said, “ when I heard him up on your roof, I figured, if I were a big bad wolf, and some one owed me money, and they refused to let me into their house, I’d go in through the chimney.”

 

So as Ralph’s bookie starts heading down my chimney, the next thing I hear is, “ oh dear God…I’m gonna burn…oh and all that money…all my beautiful money…oh why …oh why…”

 

Well, now I am not sure what happened next, it is really a mater of debate, my word against my two brothers, however, I have always been a more skilful debater then the two of them combined. The way I remember it, Frank got a little too carried away, and the ass lit my house on fire.

“ya…we’ll get em real good right Isaac?…Right brother..?…We gonna get the bookie real good…”

“Yes, that’s right,” I replied, “we’re gonna get him real good”

 

Needless to say, I now have a new house in Beverly Hills, which I graciously share, with my two brothers. It seems it was a win win situation. Oh, except for the bookie, he lost.