Fairy Tale Friday 28
The Three Little Pinks
Once upon a time there were three little pinks, who escaped from the asylum to seek their fortune in the world.
All throughout the springtime, the little pinks played in the field, seething, and obsessing, and deluding themselves, and they dined upon sodium rich noodle and powdered sauce packets, and watched television, and they gazed at the moon and drooled and their imaginations ran wild. It was a good time to be a little pink.
By September, the days had become shorter and the weather cooled, and one of the little pinks, Porkle, suggested to his brother and sister that they build their homes for the coming winter.
But his sister, Stripzobacon, would have none of it. “I want to dance the night away in a purple sheet,” she said. “There will be plenty of time later to build my home. Someone else should tell me how to build it. Someone else should do it for me. Jesus should do it. Good luck with that.” To punctuate her point, she farted and giggled and collapsed in the grass, out of breath.
Likewise, his brother, Rev. Mistress Bluuuue Boaring, was busy re- writing the dictionary. “I never get far with my project,” he moaned, “because whenever I get up to the E’s, the universe speaks through me and I eat the entire thing and have to start over. It’s my afflictiovation, and I lamentrify most grieverishly. But I have envisioned a house, as has never been done before, which was manifest in the vastness of my mind, and this shall be enough to protectivinate me should any wolfmen or zomboids arrive to eat my brainicles.”
Considering this, Porkle realized that he, himself, had inspired some of the greatest fortresses ever erected, and he was filled with confidence that if he just showed up at an existing house, he could proclaim himself the owner and move right in.
So Autumn turned to Winter, and the three little pinks froze to death. A spacecraft bearing thousands of alien insects who spoke a clicking language landed next to their remains, and their carcasses were torched in furious alien flames to become the salty cured main course at the annual feast of Clickmas. It was their greatest contribution to the world.
The End!