What happens when the Three Pigs and Red Riding Hood gang up on the (not so big or bad) wolf?
Not necessarily what you might think.
For a start there’s a dodgy solicitor who might help, for a fee.
There’s Edgar Allan Poe’s raven, who has found his voice again.
Not to mention two (wise?) owls.
Throw in some ruthless Global Corporations, a Private Security Company with absolutely no moral values and anything could (and probably does) happen.
A fairy tale for our times.
(The wolf is on a number 37 bus, returning from consulting a solicitor to see if he can stop the three pigs building in the woods, when he is approached by a fair haired young lady wearing a red hooded cloak. She offers him her sympathy and some advice…)
A silence, not uncomfortable, but not really companionable, fell between them. Then the girl’s voice gently broke the silence.
‘Have you ever thought about direct action?’
The wolf looked at her blankly.
‘What do you mean?’
The girl looked at him and with a hint of exasperation explained,
‘I mean, have you thought about taking matters into your own paws?’
‘I’ve tried, but the pig won’t see reason.’
The girl shook her head.
‘No, actions not words.’ she said. ‘Have you thought about enforcing the common law yourself?’
‘How?’ asked the wolf.
‘Well,’ the girl looked carefully down the bus to ensure that no-one was paying any attention to their conversation. ‘How about this?’ she offered, sliding back the cloth on her basket to reveal a box of extra large cook’s matches, a packet of firelighters and a plastic bottle marked, ‘Unleaded. 2 litres maximum.’
The wolf was shocked. He stood up and pushed the bell.
‘Thank you, it’s been very nice talking to you, but this is my stop. Good bye.’
And with that he walked firmly down the bus and alighted on the pavement.
He felt a tug on his fur. He turned to find that the girl had followed him.
‘Oh Wolfy, don’t get so po faced about it. All I’m suggesting is you take what’s yours.’
‘Thank you, but it’s not mine. That is the whole point, it’s everybody’s. And fire is very dangerous in woodland.’ With that he loped off for a few paces before stopping and turning once more. ‘And, young lady, whilst I do not believe that the pig has any right to have done what he has done, I have no wish to be a party to his murder.’
It was the fair haired girl’s turn to look shocked, or at least to feign it and indignation.
‘Who said anything about murder?’ she asked. ‘I was merely suggesting that you anticipate the demolition notice the council would undoubtedly serve on him for a major breach of the planning regulations, if the relevant procedures could be brought to bear. If you had any … locus?’
The wolf nodded glumly, then snapped his head round to look at the girl.
‘You heard that did you? How?’
‘Walls have ears. And I know his secretary.’
The wolf and the girl crouched at the edge of the wood, observing the Pig’s straw housing development. A light was on and hip hop music blared from the windows of the Pig’s house
‘I’m not sure about this.’ the wolf muttered, clutching the petrol can tightly in one paw and the matches in the other. ‘It seems, so… well inflammatory.’
The fair haired girl, dressed now not in her hooded cloak but in black long sleeved polo necked top, leggings and ski mask, chuckled.
‘Nice one Wolfy’.
She looked at him as he sniffed admonishingly at her levity.
‘You’re serious aren’t you?’ she asked.
‘Indeed I am young lady. It seems a most importunate escalation of the affair. I am not at all sure we should proceed in this manner.’