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Goldilocks & the three little pigs

Mike Rader

    Once upon a time, there was a bar girl named Goldilocks. She was quite a doll. Not too pretty, not too plain, just right. High cheekbones, and lips that were used to being kissed. She wore a little black number so tight it looked like she could have been born in it. She also had a fetish for chairs and beds. They couldn't be too big or too small, or too hard or too soft.
    One night Goldilocks wanted to go for a walk in a forest. But they didn't have woods where she lived. So instead she went downtown for a walk. Pretty soon she got hungrier and hungrier. At midnight, she came to Papa Bear's Bar down in the Meat Packing District. It was one of those dark wooden joints, lights down low, a few drunks propping up the bar. It had seen better days. But then, so had Goldilocks.
    She walked in, her high heels as red as a dead drug dealer's blood. She gave the barman a smile as false as her blonde hair. 'Hey, Papa, a bowl of porridge, straight up, not too hot, not too cold.'
    Papa Bear looked at her and thought, 'Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world she walks into mine.' But old Papa was a realist. Money was money. In no time at all he set the porridge down in front of her and said, 'That should be just right.'
    Suddenly, before Goldilocks could even taste it, the door flew open and three vertically challenged pigs walked in. No one called them little, not to their faces. They wore pinstripe suits with wide lapels, black ties, white shoes, and fedoras. Each piggy carried a violin case.
    Papa Bear snarled at them. He hated their kind, local muscle, nothing better than cheap hoods. 'Hey, what do you guys want?'
    The first little piggy pushed his fedora back from his forehead and said, 'We're seeking our fortunes.'
    'So am I,' Goldilocks said, her eyes lighting up.
    The little pig grinned at her. 'Then you ought to come up to my place, sister. I got this fancy joint made of straw.'
    'Straw?' scoffed Goldilocks. 'I bet I could huff and puff and blow your house down.'
    'Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin,' the pig growled.
    'You and your straw house, you don't amount to a hill of beans.' Goldilocks gave him a throaty laugh. 'I bet you don't even know how to blow, do you?' she asked. 'You just put your lips together and whistle.'
    The second pig shoved his friend aside. Goldilocks saw the glint of his gold tooth. 'Hey, babe, you oughta see my joint. Made of sticks.'
    Goldilocks crossed her legs on the bar stool and laughed. 'Sticks? I bet I could huff and puff and blow your house down.'
    The pig glared at her, menace in his eyes. 'Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin.'
    Goldilocks snorted. 'Trust me, this is definitely not the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'
    Then the third pig spoke up, adjusting the white carnation in his buttonhole.
    'This dame wants quality,' he said, pulling a cheroot from his pocket. 'You oughta see what I got, lady. A brick mansion, solid as they come, gotta wolf-proof chimney and all.'
    But Goldilocks pushed him aside. 'Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin. What kind of gal do you take me for? I came in for a porridge, not a pig. I'm out of here.'
    Just then a wolf wearing a trenchcoat strode in like he owned the joint. He gave the three pigs a long lustful look, his tongue flicking over his lips like a windscreen wiper.
    'Fancy meeting you dopes in here,' he grated.
    The pigs shot him a glance as nervous as a lap dancer with piles. The first one said, 'Hey, we don't want any trouble, Wolfie.'
    The wolf ran his eyes over Goldilocks, from head to toe and halfway back up again. 'Hey, doll, you're new, ain't you?'
    'What does it matter to you?' Goldilocks said with a sneer. 'And get your elbow out of my porridge, buster, before I break it.'
    The wolf wasn't used to broads talking back. 'Looks to me like you need to be taught a lesson.'
    Goldilocks uncrossed her legs. 'I'm the one who does the teaching in here.'
    Before the wolf could reach for his weapon, Goldilocks had him in a headlock. She placed her lips by his dark hairy ears.
    'You're busted, baby,' she hissed.
    It happened so fast the little piggies couldn't believe their eyes.
    The wolf screamed as Goldilocks ripped out his guts, plucked out his eyeballs, and sent him sailing through the air, smashing through the door and out into the street. He stumbled off blindly through the Meat Packing District and never returned to Papa Bear's Bar ever again.
    Meanwhile, the three pigs lifted their drinks to Goldilocks and said, 'Here's looking at you, kid.'
    And they, mostly, lived happily ever after.

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