There's been a few stories on here that have been re-written/blitzed to bits, for your reading pleasure, so I thought I'd continue the curve by murdering another one of our childhood favourites.
First off, the three little swines don't live in some fairytale field, as you'd expect of the images that have been installed by 'little you' when you were 6. They live in Norris Green, and from what I can see, their houses aren't built from straw or sticks. Just bricks. We're being dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st Century ladies and gentlemen, whether you like it or not.
The next twist has got to be is that the Big Bad Wolf is obviously a metaphor for some other being. It would be extraordinary if a Big Bad Wolf would be able to wander around a district of Liverpool unquestioned. A bailiff will be suffice. We'll stick with the pigs though. Unless you want to imagine them as Policemen. Depends on your stance on the latter really.
Anyways. The first little pig has set up a nice one bedroom terraced abode, fitted with bog standard wooden windows, courtesy of the Thatcher era. God knows us Scousers love a bit of Maggy. It's a 'front door on the pavement' gaff, just like them ones you see in that Hovis advert. Minus the little kid running through time, etc.
So the Big Bad Bailiff knocks one Little Pig Number One's house with that reassuring 'I'm here for your telly' knock. The walking slab of butcher's produce spies the Tax Bandit out of one of his shabby, council standard portholes at the front of his house and decides to make bacon and do a runner down the entry and visit Little Pig Number Two.
Now, Little Pig Number Two's house is a slightly better form of accomodation. There is certainly more than one bedroom. Two if you're interested. It is also fully equipped with single glazed UPVC windows and doors. And there's a small sized garden at the front. No soil. Just concrete and sadness.
Number One gives Number Two a swift text (fantastic pigs these, houses, phones and everything!) to inform him to lash the kettle on and fire up last week's X Factor for a bit of a blimp of Cheryl Cole on the Sky+. Dirty swines.
After a decent dose of consumer television, they both heard a familiar knock on the UPVC door. There's no need to look out of the window this time. The Big Bad Bailiff's knock is sound enough for them. They picked up their coats, made somewhat like Elvis, and left the building.
They jumped in their Ford C-Max (getting better this) and drove around the corner, out of Norris Green and just past the Walton Asda, to Little Pig Number Three's house. This is something of a step up to the other pig's houses. Front and back gardens, with actual turf. Wood effect UPVC windows. Four bedrooms, including an en suite bog for the master bedroom. And wireless internet. For all your Facebook needs.
It was getting a little later in the day now, and Little Pig Number Three decides to crack the tins of Carling open and lash the match on. Liverpool v Hull, 2009. Cracking match. After a large fix of pure mullering, the Pigs wind down with a custom made pizza from the Asda and a few more cans of lager. Until they hear an unnerving thump on the front door. Pigs One and Two seem unsettled whilst Little Pig Number Three calmly gets up and grabs another three cans.
The Big Bad Bailiff walked around to the bay window, where he could plainly see the three little pigs enjoying their pizza and ale. He knocked again, only to find that he was being ignored. So he huffed, he puffed, and he knocked again.
Evenutally, the Big Bad Bailiff did one and all the Little Piggies got blitzed and celebrated not paying their council tax. Or whatever.
So the lessons learned from this much altered fable? Wood effect UPVC windows are the future. Pigs hate spending money. You're probably better off hiding from bailiffs in a friend's house in Walton, rather than your house in Norris Green. You could potentially save money in this economic climate by sharing a house, rather than renting or buying individually. Or just pay your council tax. It's upto you.