“Well,” said Rump, “you seem pleased with yourself. What are you celebrating?”
“You know the Big Bad Wolf?” Porky answered.
“You mean the one who huffed and puffed and blew down the straw and stick houses of your two brothers?” Rump asked.
“Yeah, that’s the one”, said Porky. “I just fixed his clock. And I solved another problem at the same time. After he huffed and puffed and destroyed their homes, both brothers moved in with me. They’re not nearly as neat as I am. The three of us sharing a one bedroom brick home is not exactly what you might call a wondrous joy. They turned the place into a pig pen.
“And to make matters worse, early every Friday evening, Big Bad comes over and knocks on my door. When I refuse to let him in, he really raises hell. He huffs and he puffs for a while and then goes back to his den. The neighbors are beginning to complain. They call the cops, but by the time they get there, Big Bad is long gone. Those problems are now in the past and I’m celebrating.”
Porky looked around to be sure no one else had entered the bar and ordered another round for the house. “Yesterday evening when the knock came,” he continued, “I said ‘come in’ and swung the door open. As soon as Big Bad stuck his head into the room, I beaned him with that 14 inch iron skillet I use to fry smelt. I’ve got his hide outside in the back of the pickup. You want to see it?
“Having removed the threat of the wolf as an excuse for staying with me, I gave my brothers their walking papers and they are now on their way down the road.”
Porky looked at the Prince and said: “Charmy, you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. That self satisfied smirk must mean you’re up to something. I’ll bet you’ve been visiting Cinderella again.”
Charming turned a bit pink, but quickly recovered and said: No“, but I sure showed that stuck-up Rapunzel,” and he told the boys about cutting off part of her long hair. He gave each of them a handful of the golden locks.
When Rump looked at his watch and said he had to go, Porky and Charming asked why he had to leave so early. The ugly gnome merely looked mysterious and refused to give a direct answer. He said he’d explain everything when they met at the bridge over the Main South Branch of the Oconto for their usual Sunday morning fish.
“And if that bridge Troll gives you any trouble,” he said as he left the tavern, “tell him to back off or I’ll have aunt Wicked-From-The-West cast a spell on him and turn him into a U. S. Representative and send his to Washington D C. That’ll scare the hell out of him”.
The next morning, Porky and Prince Charming were waiting at the bridge when Rump drove up. He confessed to stealing Porky’s wolf skin and he also confessed to having a second job - trying to teach the king’s new wife to spin gold from straw.
“She’s not too bright”, Rump told his friends. “She can spin very well and her fingers are nimble, but she just can’t manage that special knack needed to turn the straw into gold. I made a deal with her last night. I’ll spin the gold for her if she’ll tie flies and spin fishing line for me. Just take a look at these.”
Rump opened a pocket in his fishing vest and took out some #6 weight forward, gold colored fly line and a handful of wonderful Wolf Hair Wing Adams flies. “Take a couple of them,” he said. “They look like they might be a perfect match of this morning’s hatch. Charmy, do you think you could get some more of Rapunzel’s golden hair? I’ve already got a good supply of wolf hair.”
And the three friends went trout fishing and lived happily ever after.
A million or so years ago, one of our ancestors with opposable thumbs climbed down from a tree. As he wandered out onto a savannah in search of something to eat, he came across a gnawed thighbone of a baboon. He picked it up. Though he couldn’t find any meat on it, he thought: “What the hell, maybe it will make good soup.” At that very moment, a Saber Toothed tiger came charging at him.
Unable to run back into the forest and scurry up a tree for protection, our ancestor had to stand his ground and fight. He clunked the tiger over the head with the soup bone. This came as a surprise to the tiger. It had been accustomed to being the hunter and not the hunted. The shock was so great it promptly died.
The occurrence also came as a surprise to the humanoid. His search for food seldom led him to Saber Toothed Tiger meat. On the few occasions when he found some, it had been dead for some time and he had to fight off the vultures if he wanted his fair share of it.
This ancient ancestor became the first true hunter. He had discovered both weaponry and a new and exciting way to get non-rancid meat. Many of his clan member friends and companions noticed his constant supply of fresh meat. They became curious. They carefully watched him and discovered his secret. Soon it seemed as if everyone had to have his own thigh bone of a baboon. The shops that sold such things had a difficult time keeping up with the demand.
It wasn’t long (geologically speaking) before our prehistoric progenitors were able to come down from the trees and live in more comfortable caves where the results of falling out of bed were less serious. They spent their weekends wandering around the savannahs, far from the safety of climbable trees.
Sooner or later, a hungry Saber Toothed Tiger, thinking it had found an easy meal, would attack. Then the cave man would pull out his baboon thigh bone and clunk the tiger over the head. He’d haul the carcass back to the cave for the little woman to skin and cook.
With more of their number enjoying a nutritious diet of fresh tiger meat and with fewer of their number falling out of trees or otherwise providing Saber Toothed Tigers with a nutritious diet of fresh humanoid meat, the cave men grew bigger and stronger and extended their life expectancy. A major step in the advancement of civilization had taken place - all because of the discovery of weaponry.
More advances allied to the discovery of weapons were forthcoming. In those early days, the wild dogs had a pretty tough time of it. They had no one to scratch their ears. No overstuffed chair to jump into when the cave man was hunting and the cave woman was out looking for nuts and berries. Without toilet bowls, dogs had to get their drinking water from rivers and lakes and puddles.
The wild dog took notice of the large number of Saber Toothed Tiger bones scattered around the entrances of caves and its lifestyle changed forever. The wild dog was no fool. It saw the stack of baboon thigh bones as well as the piles of delicious tiger bones. Preferring not to be clunked over the head, the dogs adopted the policy: “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” They decided to domesticate.
The erstwhile wild dog became the cave man’s best friend. Thus mankind’s second great leap forward took place. The hunting dog had evolved. In exchange for retrieving pterodactyls, treeing Saber Toothed Tigers and pointing Hairy Mammoths, the dog got free food and someone to throw sticks for it - advantages still enjoyed by their descendents.
Progress, however, does not come without struggle. Ignorance and superstition are not new. They existed in the cave man’s day even though the concept of a Senate and a House of Representatives had not yet been developed.
Then, as now, there were those who militated against change and enlightenment. They had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into the Stone Age. The inhabitants of a nearby forest, still living in trees, deplored the discovery of the thigh bone club. They claimed the weapon would be used against humanoids as well as tigers and for purposes other than finding food. They were right. When a few of them tried to take weapons from the hunters, they got clunked on the head.
With their thesis thus proven, a group of tree dwellers attempted to create and enforce programs of baboon thigh bone control - you know - thigh bone registration, waiting periods and records checks before purchase, the outlawing of automatic thigh bones and