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Once upon a time, there were three pigs who never agreed with one another. Each built their house using whichever materials they wanted. The pigs worked loud and fast. So loud that The Big Bad Wolf Hanzo couldn’t help but hear. He saw two little pigs hard at work. It would have been so easy to eat them, but Hanzo didn’t see the honor in taking it easy.
Eventually the pigs settled in to each finished house. Hanzo crept up to the first, mainly straw with sticks providing support. Hanzo’s first thought how flimsy it was and how he could simply blow over the abode. Being a fair wolf, he walked to the front and knocked.
“Small pig, please honor me by letting me inside.” A curtain shifted and abruptly fell back.
“Not on your life…or mine!” the pig yelled, his voice faint through the straw. Hanzo knew that he wouldn’t be let in, he just liked alarming his prey. He sauntered to the side and began digging. He’d only drawn a few paw-fuls when panicked squealing erupted from inside. Sure enough, a pig bolted from the door down the road. Grinning deviously, Hanzo began to chase him.
Despite his head start the pig hadn’t gone far. It was obvious he was already tired with the wheezing and coughing coming from his little lungs. His silver ponytail bobbed as he near waddled down the road throwing insults behind him. Hanzo mocked the road hog with a subtle trot behind him. He took a hard turn and dove into a log cabin which was promptly locked behind him. Amused, Hanzo knocked again.
“Perhaps there is a misunderstanding pig. I merely wish to have some tea; would you be so kind as to let me in?” Hanzo cooed. The idea of two pudgy pigs to eat too much to resist.
“Pig’s arse! No, I don’t give a rat’s arse about your damn tea!” a masked pig huffed in the window which was joined by another. “Yeah, fuck off gronk!”
Unfazed, Hanzo examined the house. It being mostly made of sticks not logs as expected, hickory by the smell of it. Snatching some flint Hanzo set about lighting the tinder house ablaze.
Hickory smoked ham Hanzo thought, salivating at the idea. Luckily for him, the sticks had dried in the sun and before long the house was flaming nicely.
Same as before squealing erupted from inside and two panicking pigs shuffled down the road which became more of a path, rocky and disheveled. Hanzo followed gingerly with stones digging into his paws.
On they ran, insulting and even threatening the wolf down the darkening path. Hanzo felt a prickle of uneasiness but remained steadfast for his three-ham meal. Eventually they banked right and dove behind a rusted metal door.
This house looked much different from the others. Instead of flimsy or flammable materials this house was made of metal welded together messily. Hanzo circled and prodded the house, disheartened he would ever get to eat the three little pigs now. No, I am the wolf! I can outsmart three foolish pigs! Hanzo told himself resolved to get the pigs no matter what it took. He walked to the front door and planted himself.
“I implore you pigs, look past my wolfish grin. I come to humbly welcome you to our lives and build friendship.” Hanzo howled dejectedly hoping to appeal to the pigs’ soft sides. He shambled to the door knocking softly before leaning dramatically against the door. He would disgrace himself to get these pigs if he had to.
Without warning, the door flew open and Hanzo tumbled inside. Sputtering thanks and attempting to reclaim his dignity he stopped when the door slammed shut as quickly as it opened. The room was dark and silent save for heavy wheezing from three directions. The sound of a heavy bolt lock turned Hanzo’s blood to ice.
Reevaluating his choice of meal, he scrambled to the door desperate to get out. He pawed the door where the bolt should be, but it simply wasn’t there. He searched up where the little pigs couldn’t reach and finally found it. Just as his paws shifted the hefty bolt a dark, malicious chuckle rumbled behind Hanzo before a large trotter ripped him from the door.
Stunned, Hanzo fearfully looked at his attacker. Instead of a pudgy little pig, a hulking mass of bristles loomed over the wolf. Where the two little Roadhogs were pink and cute as they looked at the encounter, this beast was a dark brown with devastating tusks erupting from behind his mask.
This is no pig, THIS is a HOG! Hanzo shrieked inwardly. The behemoth stomped forward growling. Hanzo didn’t stand a chance as a heavy boot flattened his tail keeping him in place. Hanzo yelped and screamed for mercy but Roadhog quickly silenced the wolf. Thick digits wrapped around the writhing wolf’s throat cutting off sound and lifting him up.
Hanzo was not a small wolf but not even he could touch the ground as he was carried into a side room. Heavy chains replaced the hoof and the shadow of the hog was unbearable. Slits of light escaped between the welds of the scrap metal of the house. Hanzo knew he would never see the light of day again.
Indeed, Hanzo was never seen again. The Roadhogs rebuilt and argued amongst themselves again and the largest always go his way. Rumor has it on quiet nights Hanzo’s pained howls can be heard from the scrap house. Or it’s another wolf foolish enough to hunt the Roadhogs.