Once upon a time there were three little pigs who wanted to own houses even though they had no reliable source of income, being pigs and all. The first pig took out a loan to buy a house made of straw. The second pig took out a loan to buy a house made of sticks. The third pig took out a loan to buy a house made of bricks. Everyone told them they should be careful about buying such expensive houses because they might not be able to keep up on the payments, but the pigs did it anyway. I’m not prejudiced or anything, but it’s a simple fact that pigs are notoriously reckless when it comes to personal responsibility.

Sure enough, these lazy, entitled pigs fell behind on their payments, and the bank that owned all three mortgages sent a collector around. The pigs called him the Big Bad Wolf, which was cruel because he was really just a dedicated employee doing his job — you know, his JOB?? Ever heard of one of those, pigs? (He really was a wolf, though.) The pigs thought it was unfair that they should be kicked out of their homes; after all, it was the scary old bank that tricked them into signing those documents! Why, the bank practically forced them!! In complete accordance with the law, the wolf knocked over the straw house and the stick house, but was prevented from fulfilling his duties at the brick house. So he pulled himself up by the bootstraps and got resourceful: he climbed down the chimney. (You heard me right: these “poor” pigs had a fireplace!!) Unfortunately, the three little pigs had a fire going at the moment, because they were cooking meth, and the wolf died, and the liberal media covered it up.

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