You open the door to the tall man with the rifle. “It’s you,” you say. He pushes in, then shuts and bolts the door.
“Hello, Albert,” Grandmother croaks.
“Hello, Granny,” he says. “I just got a call from the three little pigs, and they say the wolves are huffing and puffing again. That brick house is going down tonight unless we do something. I was hoping you could help.”
“I just don’t have the energy for a fight tonight. But maybe my grandchild can help?”
“M-m-me?” you stammer. “I just got away from the wolves, I’m not going back out there!” But you don’t want to let down Grandmother, so you agree to help. Albert puts a rifle in your trembling hands and leads you to the brick house of the pigs. There you see several wolves huffing and puffing in unison. The house buckles under the gales but holds.
You and Albert raise your rifles and shoot at the same time. Two of the wolves drop dead, and the other two run. The house is safe.
“Thank you!” one of the pigs hollers, waving a hoof. You feel exhilarated! You realize that you might have a bit of your grandmother’s courage in you after all.
THE END