The Three Little Chickens

Ladies and Gents, I present to you...

The Three Little Pigs, the Sequel! Its my ultimate masterpiece! Its a new take on a classic fairy tale! Its the Three Little Pigs, but with CHICKENS!!! What could possibly be better? So without further ado... 

Lets Begin!!!

Once upon a time, there were three little hens. It was shortly after the Three Little Pigs incident, and the Three Little Hens were moving out of the nest to start there own lives, and they each began to build their own nest.

“Bricks worked out well for the Third Little Pig.” Said the First Little Hen. “I will build my nest out of bricks, so that the Big Bad Wolf will not be able to blow down my nest.” So the First Little Hen made her nest out of bricks.

“I have a better idea.” Said the Second Little Hen. “I will build my nest of smelly fish. That way, it will smell so bad, the Big Bad Wolf will never want to come anywhere near me!” So the Second Little Hen made her nest out of fish.

“I don’t have time for this.” Said the Third Little Hen. “I’m building my nest of straw like a normal chicken. Who cares about the Big Bad Wolf?” So the Third Little Hen made her nest out of straw.

Now, remember the Big Bad Wolf? He was running, and running, and running, as far as he could, away from the Three Little Pigs and their chimney and pot of boiling water. But eventually, he became tired and out of breath. He collapsed on the ground, Huffing and Puffing. He was tired, his tail really hurt, and he was hungry. Very, very, hungry.

The Big Bad Wolf sniffed the air, searching for something, anything to relieve the unbearable empty feeling in his stomach. It growled so loudly, He almost thought that there was another wolf behind him.

Just then, the wind changed, and the Big Bad Wolf caught a whiff of… Something. Duck? Goose? Turkey? No…

Chicken.

He ran with a renewed energy, his howls echoing for miles, and all who heard it shuddered, wondering who was the poor soul that would be his next prey.

The First Little Hen was napping, with her head tucked under her wing in her newly built nest. Bricks were quite heavy, she had soon realized, and now she was quite tired. Suddenly, the snapping of a twig woke her up with a start. Standing there was The Big Bad Wolf himself. She squawked with fright, but immediately held her head high, proud like, well, a chicken. She had a nest made of bricks. He couldn’t hurt her.

“Little hen, little hen, let me in.” said the Big Bad Wolf, circling the nest and snapping his teeth menacingly.

“Ha!” said the First Little Hen cockily. “I have a nest made of bricks. You can’t get me!”

Now, what the First Little Hen forgot is that nests are completely open, and there was absolutely nothing stopping the Big Bad Wolf from hopping right into her nest of bricks and gobbling her up. So… Chomp.

The Big Bad Wolf licked his lips after a delicious first course. But he wasn’t done. Because everyone knows that a first course must always be followed by a second.

Just over the next hill, the Second Little Hen sat in her nest of smelly fish, confident that it would be enough to turn the Big Bad Wolf away. So when the Big Bad Wolf appeared, running over the hilltop toward her, drooling and laughing maniacally, she was surprised, but unconcerned. Once he caught a whiff of her fishy odor, the Second Little Hen was sure he would flee in the other direction.

Instead of fleeing in the other direction, the Big Bad Wolf cackled madly.

“Little hen, little hen, let me in.” he said with an evil smile.

“Uh, you sure want that?” asked the Second Little Hen. “It smells really bad in here.”

“Nice try.” Said the Big Bad Wolf with a sneer. “But I love sushi.” And he gobbled up the Second Little Hen and her nest in one bite. He smacked his lips in delight before sprinting in the direction of the Third Little Hens nest.

Meanwhile, the Third Little Hen sat in her normal nest of straw, quivering with fear as the sound of howls grew nearer and nearer. She knew she should have made her nest out of bricks. Or smelly fish. Or both. Brickfish. Yeah. That would have worked. She needed to figure out a way to defeat the wolf, and fast. How had the Third Little Pig done it? A pot of boiling water? Where would she get a pot of boiling water from? She could borrow one from the Third Little Pig! But wait, he lives way too far away… Anyway, a pot of water would be too heavy for the Third Little Hen to carry by herself. Maybe she should just run away? No, the Big Bad Wolf runs much faster than she does…

Too late. The Big Bad Wolf was here. He paced around her nest, as the Third Little Hen shook violently with terror. She was about to be eaten. She was going to be chomped up in one bite. Why, oh why wasn’t she better at decision making…

But then, the wolf stopped. He froze for a minute, before turning around and running off, howling, disappearing into the sunset.

But why? Why didn’t he eat the Third Little Hen?

The Big Bad Wolf was going to eat her. Without a second though. But suddenly, just as he was about to attack, he realized… He had just eaten two chickens and an enormous helping of fish. He didn’t need more food. Not only did he not need more food, but he also didn’t want more food. For the first time in a very long time, he was full. He wasn’t hungry. The bottomless empty pit had been filled. The pining in his stomach had stopped. He was satisfied. It was an unusual feeling, one he didn’t recognize, but he liked it. He turned on his heel and galloped away.

 So the Third Little Hen was left in peace to live her life in her nest of straw and lived happily ever after.

The End

The moral of this story is, sometimes in life, the simplest and least complicated solution is the best one.

(Please note the word sometimes. This does not apply to every occasion.)