This story consists of mostly dialogue between two characters. When the character Mavie is speaking the text will be bold. When Joan is speaking the text will be in italics. Other text will be normal.

An icy wind howled across the fields, blowing snow drifts into the air. Icicles longer than pitchforks hung from every building. The tall trees’ frost covered branches clawed the air, like gnarled fingers. Birds and small creatures struggled to find shelter. A lone buck wandered through the forest, his head bent against the storm. It was another savage winter in upstate New York.

The loud roar of a car driving up the road obtruded upon the winter landscape. Discomfited creatures moved away from the road as it was lit up by beaming headlights. The small Subaru strained to drive up the hill, its wheels spinning in the slush and sleet.

A warm light shone through the window of a farmhouse at the top of the hill. The Subaru parked in front of the door and a young woman stepped out. She ran to the door and knocked savagely. “Uncle Matthew open up! I’m freezing out here!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming”, came a voice from inside the house. The heavy wood door swung open, casting warm light onto the snowy ground. The woman bustled inside and began taking off her gloves and boots. Matthew smiled as she dumped a puddle of melted snow out of her boot. “Coffee?”, he asked.

“Yes please.”

“So how is the big city Joan?”, asked Matthew as he turned on the water boiler.

“Busy as ever. Seems I haven’t had time to breath since I moved there”, sighed Joan. She stood up and looked around at the wooden beams and mostly uncarpeted floor. The scent of sawdust and dish soap filled her nose. Fire crackled in the wood stove and far away a coyote howled. “Boy do I miss this old place“, she whispered. “Sure don’t miss the snow though.”

Matthew chuckled as he set two steaming mugs of coffee on the table. “We’ve missed you too Joan.”

“Is Aunt Joan here Grandpa?”, came an innocent voice from the top of the stairs. A small freckled girl in a pink bathrobe peered over the railing.

“You should be in bed Little Missy”, said Matthew.

“Oh”, said the girl dismissively. “I’m not sleepy. I wanted to stay up for Aunt Joan.”

Matthew frowned. “After I specifically told you not to-”

“How have you been Mavie?”, asked Joan. She put out her arms. Mavie hopped down the stairs and ran into her Aunt’s embrace.

“I’ve been good.”

“Even while living with this old timer?”

“It’s been a struggle but I’ve survived.”

Matthew rolled his eyes and muttered something about “ungrateful little scamps”.

“How long are you going to stay?”, asked Mavie, distractedly drinking Joan’s coffee.

“Only for the weekend, provided I can get out of here. That snow is looking pretty deep.” Joan stroked Mavie’s hair affectionately. How she wished she could stay longer.

“You need to go to bed Princess Pickle”, said Matthew, with mock severity.

“Sleeping is for old people, like you grandpa.” She hid under the table as he attempted to swat her backside with a broom. “These are the best years of my life and I need to enjoy them!”

“When I retired I never knew it would be like this”, Matthew whispered to Joan.

“I don’t envy you at all”, she muttered back. Mavie was having a shootout with herself under the table. “Mavie!”, called Joan.

“Come on Don, don’t let dem wild cowboys bust up the saloon. Why I’ll make ’em all dance when my hot led hits them!”, roared Mavie.

“You need to stop watching old westerns Uncle.”

“Well boys, we’ve got us enough booz to last ’till May”, Mavie drawled. She began singing raucously as Joan dragged her out by the feet.

“Mavie, if you are quiet I’ll tell you a story!”, Joan shouted over the din.

Immediately Mavie went silent. Then she stood up and put her hands on her hips. “I’ll go to bed and be quiet. But it had better be a good story. Does it have pirates or Spaniards?”

“Not exactly but it will be very exciting, I promise.”

“Once upon a time there were three little pigs”, began Joan.

“Are you sure this is exciting?”

“Yes, be quiet. Now these three pigs were getting to old to hang around their mother all the time.”

“Send them to the smokehouse!”

“Mavie please be quiet! The pigs decided to set off to discover their fortunes and find their place in the wide wide world. The first little pig decided to build himself a house out of straw. Fortunatly for him he came upon a man feeding straw to his cows.”

“No, it was a komodo dragon feeding his water buffalo.”

“Oh, ok, fine. So the pig asked the man… er the komodo dragon if he”

“She”

“Okay, if she would give him some straw. The man… I mean komodo dragon gave him some straw and the first little pig went on his way. He found a nice place to build his house and-“

“Before you could say mullusks and moonshine the house was built!”

“Are you telling this story?”

“No thanks, you can keep going.”

“Thank you. The little pig was just settling down for a good night’s sleep when along came the big bad wolf.”

“His body was huge and muscular. He had patches of fur missing and one eye was gone from its socket. Blood dripped from his fangs!”

“Mavie! Now the big bad wolf said, ‘little pig little pig, let me come in.'”

“Not by the hair on my lower left shin!”

“‘Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!'”

“‘Not so fast.’ The first little pig pulled out his six shooter and aimed it straight at the wolf’s black heart.”

“Then the wolf took out his laser blaster and shot the pig.”

“Wolves don’t have laser blasters!”

“They do now. So anyway, the wolf killed the first little pig and ate it up.”

“He has to cook it first.”

“The wolf made a fire out of the straw and roasted the pig on a spit before eating him. Meanwhile the second little pig had decided to build himself a house out of sticks. Soon the little pig came upon a-“

“Dam”

“I beg your pardon!”

“The second little pig came to a dam blocking the river. A beaver lived there. He was sitting on his porch smoking cigars with a Dodo.”

“Dodos are extinct.”

“Now they are. The wolf ate them.”

“Anyway. The second little pig bought sticks from the beaver and built his house. Then along came the big bad wolf.”

“How did the wolf know where he was?”

“I don’t know! He has a good sense of smell.”

“No!”, Mavie gasped. “The beaver betrayed him!”

“And the wolf said, ‘I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!’ The wolf blew the house down and ate up the second little pig.”

“He has to cook it first.”

“Aargh! Fine! He made a fire with the sticks and ate up the second little pig.”

“Why do they always say ‘ate up’? Doesn’t the food go down?”

“The third little pig decided to build a house out of bricks. Soon he came upon a… er. Who sold him the bricks?”

“I don’t care!”

“Ok, a bunny.”

“No. Rabbits have dark secrets.”

“Oh! Ok… um.”

“Make it a Viking.”

“The third little pig met a… Viking, who sold him some bricks. But just as soon as the third little pig finished building the big bad wolf showed up.”

“The bunny told on him.”

“The wolf cried, ‘little pig little pig let me come in’.”

“Not by all the teeth in my little piggie grin!”

“‘Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.’ And the wolf and huffed and puffed and…”

“Blew the house in, and killed the third little pig! But now we see the wisdom of the third little pig. Because you can’t make a fire out of bricks!”

Joan quietly closed the door to Mavie’s bedroom. From inside came the sound of Mavie’s gentle snoring. Joan smiled. “Goodnight Little Dreamer.”

As soon as Mavie was sure Joan was gone she crept out of bed and took her foam sword out of its hiding place under a pile of clothes. “Alright Sir Gawain. Queen Guinevere is in the Dark Night’s Castle. Let’s rescue her while the villain is sleeping. The night shall hide us and we shall go undetected. We might be able to get some Oreos from the kitchen while we’re at it.”