I've been thinking a lot today about happy endings (hence the post earlier today). And you know you can't think about happy endings without thinking about fairy tales. So here is a totally random, unplanned, and impromptu blogoversary challenge!
One of my favorite things in the world is retold/fractured fairy tales. I love them, and I can't get enough. So for this challenge, I want you to recreate a fairy tale/folktale. It can be a story, a poem, whatever. As long as it's based on a fairy tale/folktale of some kind. Now, I know this takes a lot of creativity, so there are big bonus points at stake for this one!
Now I don't issue any challenge without completing it myself. So yesterday I sat down and wrote this new version of "The Three Little Pigs" in about 20 minutes. If you're interested, you'll find it at the very end of this post, after the form below. So be creative, put your thinking caps on, and get writing! Depending on the entries, I may share some of them at the end of the blogoversary (along with the other good stuff we got going on).
Points: +15 for your retold fairy tale, bonus +5 if your story is shared at the end of the celebration
Deadline: Midnight on October 2nd
How To Enter: Fill out the Google form below to enter. Remember, you can do a story or a poem (or anything else you can think of) but it must be original and completely yours. No plagiarizing, please. If you have problems with the form, you can also email me your entries at shadygladeATmailDOTcom.
The Three Little Pigs
(A Modernized Version)
Once upon a time there were three little pigs. The time came for them to go out into the world and seek their fortunes. The first little pig decided to build his house of straw (he wasn’t a very smart pig), the second little pig built his house of sturdy wood (sticks aren’t so easy to find anymore), and the third little pig built his house of nice strong cement (bricks are so yesterday).
One day the big bad wolf happened upon the first pigs’ house. “Little pig, little pig, let me come in,” the wolf cried. The first little pig replied, “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!” So the wolf huffed and puffed, and huffed and puffed, and when nothing else happened, he took a blowtorch to the side of the little pig’s house.
Straw being very flammable stuff, the little straw house was immediately engulfed in flames. The first little pig managed to escape out of the back door, and ran with his little singed tale all the way to his brother’s house.
Before long, the big bad wolf followed his nose to the second pig’s house. He knocked on the door and said again, “Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!” Now, the second pig was sure that his wood house was nice and strong, and so he shouted back, “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!”
So the wolf huffed and puffed, and huffed and puffed again, and nothing much happened (he was getting a little old after all). Well, the wolf was getting very hungry, and wasn’t about to let a couple of little pigs outsmart him with a wooden door. So the big bad wolf backed his truck through the door of the little wooden house.
Wood is nice and strong against wolves, but it just can’t stand up to a Hemi V8 engine. So as the little wooden house fell to splinters, the two little pigs just managed to escape through the back door and ran all the way to their brother’s house. (Why the wolf didn’t just chase them down in his truck, we’ll never know. Maybe he forgot his glasses that day and didn’t see them run through the gaping hole his truck left in the second little pig’s living room.)
Now, the third little pig was much smarter than his brothers. He had built his house of cement, knowing that he would be safe from big bad wolves. And although his brothers were somewhat stupid (who builds in flammable materials anyway?) they were still his brothers. So he let his scorched and splintery brothers into the door and that was the end of that.
Of course the big bad wolf wasn’t going to give up on his nice ham dinner now, so he eventually followed his nose to the third little pig’s house. He wearily knocked on the door, and in a tired voice he said, “Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!” The third little pig could tell the wolf was getting tired, so he confidently said, “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!”
So although it hadn’t really worked before, the wolf huffed and puffed, and huffed and puffed, and huffed and puffed some more, trying to blow the cement house down. (It was tradition, after all). When that didn’t work, the wolf tried to burn the cement house with his blowtorch, but all that did was leave a few black marks on the door. Then the wolf tried backing his truck into the cement house. Unfortunately, all that did was smash in his bumper and ruin his suspension.
The smart thing for the wolf to do at this point would be to just give up. In fact, that’s exactly what the three little pigs expected to him to do. But this particular wolf, in addition to not being as young as he used to be, was rather henpecked by his lady wolf wife. So he was determined to come home with ham for dinner, no matter what.
After spending several minutes thinking about what he wanted to do, the wolf climbed onto the roof of the cement house, and walked over to the chimney, and threw a stick of dynamite into the cement house. The resulting explosion finally let the big bad wolf into the third little pig’s house. Unfortunately, both the wolf and the little pigs had been blown into too many smithereens to care.