A poem that takes pity on the three little pigs arch enemy.

Once upon a hairy tale

(Yes, I got the spelling right)

A wolf stuck plasters on his fur

And moaned about his plight.

For 5 long years he’d suffered

Since he was but a pup

From crafty pigs and girls in hoods

And now he was fed up.

The vet said he had asthma

From blowing buildings down

And he thought he’d caught a case of fleas

From wearing grandma’s gown.

The last time he had eaten well

Was August or September

He thought he might have caught a slug

He couldn’t quite remember.

He longed to eat that girl in red

And her rotten granny too

Followed by a bacon roll

And a bowl of piggy stew.

But thanks to Red and daddy’s axe

His tail was now much shorter

And the pigs had scolded his behind

With a pan of boiling water.

So wolfie went to search the web

From Instagram to Ebay

For something that would fill his tum

And make the rotters pay.

His answer was to order up

A pizza (thin and crusty)

Delivered on a moped by

A spotty youth called Rusty.

As Rusty reached the wolf’s front door

The wolf leapt from the hall

And gobbled up the poor young man

Pizza box and all

So having finished off the boy

He took his coat and tie

And set of on the moped

For a certain piggy sty.

Knock, knock went wolf upon the door

At the pig-house made of brick

“Pizza?” said the hopeful pig

And gave his lips a lick.

But no one got to eat that night

Except our vulpine friend

Who rounded up the piggies three

And brought about their end.

With belly full of yummy pork

He got back on the moped

And up the road to grandma’s house

The naughty wolf then sped

Alas,  grandma was also fooled

By the pizza uniform

And the promise of a cheesy feast

With extra fries and corn.

Thus satisfied, the wolf began

To wait for little Red

And feeling full of porky treats

He snoozed upon the bed.

Some time had past when Wolf awoke

The night had now turned black

“The moment’s come for my revenge,

I’ll have a midnight snack!”

His urge to eat Red Riding Hood

Blinded him from seeing

The visitor to Grandma’s house

Was another furry being.

No one knows poor wolfie’s fate

Although I’ve heard a rumour

That these days, when Red’s in the wood,

She walks beside a puma.

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