3 Little Haram Pigs (part 2)

Written by: Hamzah Moin


Wolf was furious. How can Mr. Stick blame the murder of Mr. Straw on Muslim wolves? Wolf threw the newspaper against the wall. He knew when he goes into work the next day as a gas station attendant he will receive a lot of evil stares and racial slurs.

He huffed and puffed out of his house, storming to find Mr. Stick who lived on the other side of the forest. As Wolf trekked through the forest, he felt piercing cold stares from the other animals.

The Blue Jay family, who used to greet Wolf with a cheerful song, sang a gangsta rap attack piece as he walked by.
The Squirrel family, who used to playfully throw acorns at Wolf’s head whenever he walked by, angrily threw acorns at Wolf’s head as he galloped on.
The Deer family, who were the celebrities of the forest due to being distantly related to Bambi, shunned him by publicly posting an invite list of their Oscar Night party on their door with Wolf’s name crossed out.

“Dad, is that the Muslim wolf that murdered the pig?” asked a young owl atop a tree.
“Most likely son. Don’t stare. We don’t want him to murder us too” replied Mr. Owl.

Wolf didn’t understand. One stupid headline and all his forest acquaintances turned against him. Wolf made a mental note to delete all these “friends” from his Facebook. As he checked his Facebook on his smartphone he realized that not only did his forest friends unfriend him, but that they all reported him as an abusive account to suspend him from Facebook. Wolf shook his head in disgust.

As he walked past his former acquaintances he bumped into Papa Bear.

“Sorry, sorry” apologized Wolf. He didn’t want to add any more anger directed towards him.
“No problem at all my good man” chuckled Papa Bear as he picked up what looked like a security alarm for his house.
“What’s that for?”
“This?” asked Papa Bear as he peered down at the security alarm. “This is apparently the best thing to secure your house from break-ins.”
Wolf looked around sheepishly. “I uhhh… listen I understand people getting uptight about Muslim wolves and stuff but I think the reports are a bit exaggerated and –“
Papa Bear cut him off. “Oh no my good man! This isn’t for the wolves. I don’t believe everything in the newspapers. BOX News is filled with morons.”

Wolf sounded relieved that there are actually smart animals in the forest that use their brains.
Papa Bear continued. “This security alarm is for this stupid human girl who keeps breaking in to our house.”
“Oh wow… does she take anything?”
“No… she just eats our porridge that we leave all prepared in our kitchen for some reason. But one time we caught her sleeping in Baby Bear’s bed. She has problems man. I think she escaped from the asylum.”
“That’s sad to hear. But congratulations on the baby. What’s his name?”
“Baby Bear.”
“Oh… and I suppose your name is Papa Bear.”
“It is.” replied Papa Bear matter-of-factly.
“And your wife is Mama Bear?”
“That’s right.”
“Let me get this straight,” pressed Wolf, “Your name is Papa Bear and the girl of your dreams was named ‘Mama Bear’ and you decided to name your kid “Baby Bear.”
“I don’t want to sound rude but isn’t that just setting yourself up for bullying in school.”
Papa Bear sighed. “I told Mama Bear that naming our son Baby Bear will be easy for us but I didn’t expect him to get teased so much in school. Even the teachers make fun of him. And now a delusional girl is stalking our son… it’s hard….”
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize-”
“Did you know that confounded newspaper wrote a scathing article about the Bear clan? Mr. Stick insulted our entire family because we have stupid names.”
“Why didn’t you sue him for defamation?” asked Wolf.
“Because Mr. Stick likes confrontations. I’m afraid of his insults…” whimpered Papa Bear.
“I’ll take care of him.” replied Wolf confidently as he marched ahead towards his house.
“Be careful… he’s waiting for you.” warned Papa Bear as he departed.

Wolf reached the other side of the hill and saw the looming House of Sticks. Mr. Stick’s house looked enormous when compared to Mr. Straw’s house. The house looked like a giant cabin of sticks although it was immaculately put together. A giant chimney protruded out of the house and smoke was floating off into the atmosphere. Wolf pondered about that a giant house of sticks with a fireplace is a giant fire hazard.

There was a giant No Smoking sign outside Mr. Stick’s house and Wolf felt slightly relieved. At least he won’t have to deal with his asthma with second-hand smoke.

Just as Wolf was about to knock on the door, Mr. Stick opened it. To Wolf’s surprise, Mr. Stick had not one, but two cigarettes in his mouth. This pig looked quite different than Mr. Straw. He was fatter and shorter but much more mean looking.

“Well hello there idiot.” Mr. Stick malevolently greeted as he puffed both cigarettes.
“You know… not that I’m going to hate a sign that says No Smoking… but what’s the point of putting it up if you’re going to disobey it? That just makes you a hypocrite.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you fatso?” jolted Mr. Stick as Wolf checked his love handles. “The sign has only one cigarette crossed out… smoking two at the same time is perfectly ****ing acceptable.”
Wolf’s ears started bleeding. “Can you stop swearing… that hurts my Muslim ears.”
“**** you and **** your Muslim ears.” shot back Mr. Stick.
Wolf shook his head and pressed on. “Well first… I’m sorry to hear for your loss.”
“My loss? How’d you know I lost my hat? I loved that ****ing hat.”
“I meant your brother… Mr. Straw.”
“Oh him? Who gives a **** about him. Good riddance. Fat porker owed me $100 and never paid me back. He smelt like moth balls too.”
Wolf’s ears started bleeding more. “Wow… that’s a lot of backbiting… and he’s dead… AND your brother. That’s like eating his flesh and-“
Mr. Stick cut him off and showed him what he was eating. Wolf was stunned…
“Is that ham on a stick?” asked a disgusted Wolf.
“That’s right idiot.”
“That’s… Mr. Straw?”
“Yes. The greedy fool tastes delicious.”
“But that makes you a cannibal.”
“Well that’s a new title I can add to my LinkedIn profile.”

Wolf dabbed a napkin back into his ears to quell the bleeding.

“ But how can you eat him? You’re brothers.”
“Just on paper, foolish Muslim.”
Wolf looked annoyed. “Why do you keep insulting me and my Muslim factor?”
“Because…” answered Mr. Stick as he puffed the two cigarettes, “…the public needs a scapegoat.”
“But why?”
“Because my social class can only become successful by scaring the hell out of gullible morons who believe anything.”
“Like the rising crime rates. Like random widespread epidemic. Like Snooky being an incredible artist. All horse****.”
“And like Muslim wolves are all murderers and terrorists”
Mr. Stick smirked. “Muslims are ****ing weird.”

Wolf’s ears started bleeding again. “Can you stop swearing? I’m Muslim and we don’t like that.”
Mr. Stick looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry… I’ll stop.”
“Wow… thanks… I-“
“Shut the **** up, *****!!” shouted Mr. Stick randomly.
“WHOA! I thought you said-“
“I lied! I ****ING LOVE LYING!” screamed Mr. Stick off the top of his lungs as he laughed to himself.
“Why do you lie? Do you ever write truthful things?”
“I sprinkle a little truth but for the most part it’s more fascinating to make stuff up. People will believe anything.”
“No they won’t.” replied Wolf.
“You didn’t hear that Bambi is gay?”
“How could he be gay? Bambi is married to an attractive female deer mashAllah.” Wolf started drooling… he wasn’t attracted to Bambi’s wife… just the thought of eating her brought back his Jahili days.
“Well most of my readers will believe it. That’s tomorrow’s front page. He’s a celebrity you know. If there is one thing people need more of, is to read about **** from stupid celebrities that they’d never meet and learn everything about them… even more than their own ****ing loved ones.”
“You’re insane. Nobody with a sound mind would ever believe or read about celebrity gossip. Anyone who does probably has huge issues.”
“My bank account will disagree with you.” sniped Mr. Stick mischievously.

Wolf started doing jumping jacks as the double-cigarette fumes and constant swearing were starting to anger him.

“Can you at least stop writing about wolves committing senseless acts of violence?” asked Wolf. “At least not unless you have proof.”
“No ******** way. I hate wolves. I hate you.”
“Well at least stop putting MUSLIM in big bold letters in the headline every time a Muslim does a bad thing. “
“No, people won’t read it then” explained Mr. Stick.
“But it defames a whole religion!” shouted Wolf.
“Well tell your kind to stop murdering and eating innocent pigs.”
“Why would we eat pigs? It’s Haram for us to eat your kind!”
“You NEVER had bacon? It’s so good!”

Wolf had enough. “Go eat yourself, pig.”

Mr. Stick grinned to himself. “I dream of that every night” he shouted as Wolf marched back towards the hill. The pig heard ruffling from the forest nearby the House of Sticks…

Wolf was halfway up the hill when he heard a bloodcurdling scream.

“MR. STICK? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” Wolf shouted as he dashed towards the Stick House.
It was locked. Wolf could hear screaming inside.
“Pig! Let me in! Let me in!” shouted Wolf as he banged on the door.
Inside, Wolf could hear Mr. Stick struggling with someone. Mr. Stick was pleading to the intruder to stop. “NO! Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin! NO!”
Wolf was confused. “Mr. Stick? What’s a chinny-chin-chin?”
The struggling stopped. Mr. Stick was silent.

The door creaked open. Wolf could see no signs of the intruder. He must have escaped through the back window. Mr. Stick was lying on the ground, burnt to a delicious-but-Haram state of well done. His two cigarettes were still in his mouth.

“Oh… Mr. Stick.” said a sickly Wolf… he was getting queasy.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway.

“You! You killed him!” said the figure.
“No I didn’t! I swear!” explained Wolf.

Two Police Beavers came marching through the door.

“It’s him! The murderous Muslim wolf! We caught him!” shouted the figure at the police officers.

The Police Beavers approached Wolf who voluntarily surrendered. Arrested.

As Wolf was being taken away, he looked back at the figure. It was Mr. Brick.

“You killed my brother. You dirty rat. You killed my brother. I am just so utterly sad.” said Mr. Brick, who was smiling ear to ear.