The Three Billy Pigs Gruff

by Kimi Little

Once upon a time there were three Billy Pigs Gruff – Ferdie- the youngest, Joe- the middle one, and Artie- the oldest. They all longed to build a house across the river in a lovely field. Unfortunately, there was Bob, a large, hungry troll, who lived under the bridge. The pigs packed up their supplies and hoped they would not be eaten when they crossed the river.

Fritz, the Big Bad Wolf, was looking for a snack, and saw the three pigs. He strolled over to them.

“Hello, my good pigs!” Fritz said. “Can I be of some help?”

The three pigs eyeballed him nervously.

Artie, the oldest Billy Pig Gruff, said, “No, thank you, sir, we’d prefer not to be eaten.”

Fritz laughed. “Of course I won’t eat you! That would be rude.”

“Hmmm,” said Artie, “No thanks, but thank you anyway.”

“I’ll just take a nap, instead,” said Fritz. The big bad wolf laid down under a large tree and pretended to fall asleep.

The pigs looked at him suspiciously and headed out to the river.

Ferdie, the youngest Billy Pig Gruff, wanted a house built out of straws. He stuffed his backpack with boxes of bendy straws and rolls of tape, and he trotted up to the bridge.

From under the bridge, up popped Bob the Troll.

“Who’s that walking across my bridge?”

“It’s I, Ferdie, the little Billy Pig Gruff.”

“Well, I’m going to eat you up!” said Bob.

“Oh no, I’m much too small to be tasty,” said Ferdie. “Wait for my older brother – he’s much tastier than I am.”

“Well, all right then,” said Bob the Troll, “off you go.”

Ferdie picked up his backpack and headed over the bridge.

Pretty soon, Joe, the second Billy Pig Gruff, was ready to go. He wanted to build a tree house. He rolled his little wheelie suitcase loaded with sticks, glitter glue, and door knobs, and he trotted up to the bridge.

From under the bridge, up popped Bob the troll.

“Who’s that walking across my bridge?” he asked.

“It’s I, Joe, the middle Billy Pig Gruff.”

“Well, I’m going to eat you up!” said Bob.

“Oh no!” said Joe. “My big brother is coming this way soon, and he is really delicious. I’d wait for him, if I were you.”

“Well, alright then,” said Bob the Troll, “off you go.”

Joe pulled his suitcase and headed over the bridge.

Artie, the eldest Billy Pig Gruff, was heading to the bridge next. He wanted a strong house, just in case the wolf came by. He loaded up his cart with bricks, cement and shiny new windows, and he trotted up to the bridge.

From under the bridge, up popped Bob the Troll.

“Who’s that walking across my bridge?” asked Bob.

“It’s I, Artie, the oldest Billy Pig Gruff.”

“Well, I’m going to eat you up!” said Bob.

“Oh no, you wouldn’t want to do that,” said Artie. “There’s a very juicy wolf following us. If you ate him, you would have a tasty dinner and a lovely pair of fuzzy mittens for winter!”

“Well, alright then,” said Bob the Troll, “off you go.”

Artie pushed his cart and headed over the bridge.

Pretty soon, the Big Bad Wolf snuck up to the bridge.

From under the bridge, up popped Bob the Troll.

“Who’s that walking across my bridge?” asked Bob.

“It is I, Fritz, the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Well, I’m going to eat you up!” roared Bob.

“Oh no you’re not!” said Fritz. “I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow you into the river!”

Fritz huffed, and he puffed, and…Bob ate him.

So the Three Billy Pigs Gruff built their houses and were very happy.

Bob the Troll had a lovely set of fuzzy mittens for winter.