Once upon a dreary in a particularly desolate land there lived three pudgy pink pigs. These friendly and fat forms of livestock were the type that would try and build themselves shelter in a futile attempt at saving their own pork chops from the fiends that lurk at night. Sharp teeth, razor like claws, the mere nightmarish thought of these things caused the three little pork chops to shutter with terror.
The first of these fat slabs of meat decided that they would build his house out of the ever so supportive straw. The material that would snap like bones under the foot of a starving wolf would be made into a shelter for the purpose of protection. One particularly dark and howling night the pig sat by candle light eating his dinner of slop when he heard the roar of a vicious fiend outdoors. The little meat chunk thought "I will surely be safe! I built this shelter to do just that!". Then a cold, nipping breeze blew through the house, putting the candle out. With one loud shriek a gale had blown his house of straw over, leaving him exposed to the terrors of the night. He heard the footsteps of a large, terrible beast coming closer and closer… until finally it could feel the hot breath of a monster upon the nape of neck. He was then lifted off the ground by a terrifying wolf fiend who proceeded to shake him like a dog with chewing toy. He could hear the sound of each of his own bones snapping, each of his tendons ripping from their point of origin, until he slowly faded to death…
The second of the pork chops had decided to make his shack out of wood. Though not just any wood, but the sticks he found throughout the evil land he called "home". He thought his shield of a shack was the perfect way to protect himself, but when the night came with another howling gale the slice of ham was in for a surprise. First came the light breeze that blew out his candle, which was followed by the terrible whirlwind that had forsaken his brother. The sticks flew every...