This Little Pig's BBQ

(Dedicated to Annelise, the heart of this Pig tail tale) “I was orphaned when I was barely one years old. My Mother must have feared for her life to have dropped me in the pen of pigs. Luckily, the pigs heard her as she left and had the frame of mind to hide me before her pursuers came. When my Mother didn’t come back to claim me, the pigs took me in as their own. But they didn’t do it out of kindness. To them, I was potential leverage. They assumed someone from my family would come to claim me. But neither a family nor randsom ever appeared. Instead, they were forced to raise me with their four piglets, Smokey, Hot, Mild, and Mustard. I was ‘Sweet.” Sweet-sow officially, and Sweets-O affectionately. Together, we were dubbed ‘The Five Little Pigs.’” “Life in the pen was decent enough. Eat. Sleep. Run around. Not much of a purpose. I always knew I wasn’t like the other four. But it took a couple of tragedies to make me decide to leave. You might have heard the rhyme about us, ‘This little pig went to market. This little pig stayed home. This little pig ate roast beef. This little pig ate none. And this little pig went wee wee wee all the way home.’ Catchy huh? Not exactly accurate though. Smokey and Hot left the pen one day against Mother Pig’s wishes. The rumor is, they came across a man on his way to slaughter. Hot ran home. Smokey never returned. Mother Pig mourned the loss of Smokey so much that she neglected to watch her other four children.” “While Mustard was eating the sty out of food, Mild was starving to death for the lack of. I was smart enough to order out. After we found Mild’s bones, there was just the three of us ‘piglets’ left. It wasn’t long after Mild’s death that I decided to make my way into the big wide world. Hot and Mustard decided to follow, against Mother Pig’s and my wishes. We all built houses on the same dirt road. Hot’s was made of straw. Mustard’s was out of sticks. I built mine of brick. We ignored each other for the most part, until the day Wolfie here strolled into the neighborhood. He was hungry and half out of his mind when I saw him.” “When is he not?” I quipped. Wolf rolled his eyes. “After Wolfie destroying the other two huts, my pen-mates ended up in my house, cowering in the corner like idiots. ‘Let me in. Let me in!’ Wolfie cried from the front door. So do you know what I did?” Snow and I shook our heads. “What?” “I let him in!” She shouted, slapping her knee and grinning. I realized then and there that I didn’t really like pigs. They’re dirty and dim witted and they take up too much room! Even after all those years of living with them, I didn’t feel any great fondness. So I let Wolfie in, and we had dinner.” My mouth hung open as I stared down at my plate. “We ate your brothers?” “No, silly!” Sweets-O laughed. “We finished them off that night.” Snow relaxed and took another bite off her plate. “You’re eating their cousins.” She spit the food back out. Wolf and Sweets-O chuckled. “It was after that delicious dinner that I realized my true calling,” Sweets-O concluded. “I was destined to open up this BBQ shop.” “I need a drink!” Snow shouted, shoving her plate aside and running toward the restaurant. Sweets-O watched her leave. "What a shame," she said after a moment. “Such a beautiful girl. But what a dreadful voice!” Wolf and I nodded our agreement. Sometime later, much later by the feel of our eyelids, we realized Snow hadn’t come back from the restaurant. A look of panic flickered across Wolf’s face. “Woodcutter,” he said, running for the door. I nearly flew into him as he paused in the doorway. “What’s going on?” I asked. Wolf shushed me. I flew over his shoulder to get a better look. What I saw was Snow, sitting at the end of a table, eagerly talking to twelve miniature men. They had the bodies of children, but the beards of grandfathers. “That’s disgusting!” I whispered, thinking Snow had found herself some boyfriends. Snow looked up from the group and smiled at us. “They said they have an extra room where I can stay!” “Are you sure that’s a wise idea, Snow?” Wolf asked cautiously. “I mean, they’re trolls.” The little men let out a unanimous cry of outrage. “How dare you!” One yelled. “We’re dwarves you mutt!” “Who are you calling a mutt? I’m a prince!” Wolf roared back. “Here we go again,” I mumbled, shooting Sweets-O a look. Six of the seven dwarves raised their knives and forks, jabbing them toward us. Sweets-O swept up the hem of her skirt and charged into the middle of the fray. “Oh no you don’t! Not in my restaurant. Put down that silverware right now.” The dwarves grumbled and put down their makeshift weapons. Sweets-O, suddenly appearing more stern and mature than her years, looked at Wolf evenly. “Apologize, Wolf.” “What? I will do no such thing!” “Apologize to my customers right now.” Wolf turned to me for reinforcement. I shrugged. “Personally, I don’t care what they want to be referred to as. The only thing that matters is that Snow is safe.” Snow grinned at us as the remaining dwarf, who looked to be a little slow, combed her hair with his spoon. “I’m sorry,” Wolf mumbled under his breath. “What? I don’t think the dwarves in the back heard you,” called out the lead dwarf. “I’m sorry I called you ‘trolls’ you little monsters.” Sweets-O stomped down on one of his paws. “Glad that’s settled,” she said. The dwarves went back to Snow, helping her off the stool and preparing to leave. “Thank you for all your help!” she called out to us cheerfully. I clutched at my ears. “How does that not bother you?” I asked one of the passing dwarves. “How does what not bother me?” “Snow’s voice. It’s like metal in a cheese grater.” The dwarf stared at me incredulously. “Her voice is beautiful! Unlike you other creatures, human and bug or whatnot. You all are dreadful to listen to.” I chuckled to myself and thought, “Well I’ll be.” After we bid Snow good-bye it was time to find bedding for the night. The day’s adventure had worn both of us out. “I guess we’ll find a clearing nearby,” Wolf said, stifling a yawn. “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Sweets-O replied. “I have an extra room upstairs you can use. The linens are clean and I’ll have breakfast on the table at eight.” “Barbecue again?” I teased. “No, bacon. And if the hens feel willing, eggs.” I was too tired to respond. Instead, I let myself be lead up to the second floor. “I’ll take this pillow,” I mumbled to Wolf. He was already curled up on the bed. “I never imagined I’d be traveling with a wolf,” I thought. “Better yet, a talking wolf who thinks he’s a prince.” But before I could think on it more, sleep took me.