I’m the Big Bad Wolf... or so they say. That’s just a codename of mine. My real name’s Ulric. Ulric Wulf. Big Man Blue spread that around, saying it would make me seem scarier to criminals. Although, I doubt it.

Ever heard of the Wolf Pack? Those are my boys. They’re not as scary as they sound, I promise. We work for S.A.F.E. (that’s the Service Agency for Fairytale Endeavors, by the way), where the big dogs roam. That’s a bit of a joke on my part, but mostly we just come in when there’s a problem that needs fixing down in Storybrook City that the police can’t take care of.

Sadly, that’s pretty often. The department is seriously lacking in competence, and it’s all because of one man: Big Man Blue. Yes, Little Boy Blue grew up, and instead of annoying everyone with his terrible flute playing at 3:00 in the morning, we get to enjoy his terrible siren whenever he drives around in his police car, blaring the noise at full volume. There isn’t even any crime!

I sipped my tea. My phone started ringing. “It’s Blue, isn’t it?” I grumbled to myself, before picking up. What sort of thing does he want me to deal with today?

“Good morning, Mr. Wulf!” shouted Big Man Blue, “I have something important for you today. Please come down here immediately!”

“Important, eh? Well, if you’re telling me, it surely must be.” I mean, when is it not? Oh, like the time Stewart Pig took an extra sample at the desk... complete emergency. “I’m on my way,” I affirmed, grabbing my keys and coat off the rack.

“Great, I’ll see you there.” I hung up after that. I’d be hearing him talk more at the station, anyways.

I climbed into my car and headed off towards Storybrook City, the home of the fairytales. I tried to figure out what Big Blue could want me for this time.  Last time, he called me to investigate suspicious activity at Mrs. Hood’s house, but it turned out her granddaughter, Red Riding Hood, was just bringing her some cookies.

Maybe he was calling about the Pig brothers again.  Ever since Stanley, Steve, and Stewart Pig moved out of their mom’s house, they have been causing trouble around Storybrook.  It was never anything major, mostly small crimes like stealing cookies or annoying their neighbors at midnight.

I pulled into the police station and Big Man Blue waved from the front steps. “We have a big problem today, Mr. Wulf,” he said, as we shook hands. “It’s the pigs again.”

“Did Steve snatch gummy bears from Julia’s candy shop again?” Goodness, not the gingerbread fiasco.

“Even worse, two bags of chips and a soda from Mrs. Hubbard’s grocery store. On top of that, Stewart and Steve’s houses aren’t up to code and a big wind storm is blowing in from HuffenPuff County!” he said, excitedly. “We’ll head over there now in my cruiser.”

“Seeing as how our normal inspectors are out on vacation?” Probably sightseeing one of the hundreds of castles on the outskirts of town.

“Only some of them,” he replied, “the rest are still on cleanup duty from the beanstalk incident.”

“Fair enough, that thing was growing way too tall. Still, I feel like you personally pick me whenever it comes to the Pig triplets.” I sighed.  “Never mind. Let’s go.”  

I got out of Blue’s cruiser first, leaving him to “enjoy his breakfast.” I suppose I would be the one doing all the work anyways. Coming up to the plot of land where the three houses sat, I gave them a look over. Leave it to the “Straw, Sticks, and Stones Gang” to make houses like their name. Not that they're regulation approved.

I came to the straw house first, ringing the bell. I didn’t dare knock, as the whole structure might collapse, but I didn’t expect anything more from Stewart.

“Stewart,” I called, “It’s Mr. Wulf. I’m here to remind you about the housing standards.” Seeing as he’s the youngest, he might be a little easier to deal with, but as the times before have shown, it’s never true. Suddenly, the poorly constructed door to the straw house opened.

“Oh, hey Mr. Wulf. What can I do for ya?” the young pig asked in a rude tone as he addressed me.

“I’m here to discuss your home. As Big Man Blue has probably told you before, it isn’t quite up to the correct standard.”

“So? Why should I care?” Stewart spat as he gave me his feedback on why I had come to his house.

I adjusted my footing as my patience began to run out. “Listen, kid, I’ve gotten a report that there is a bad wind storm coming from HuffenPuff County. So for your own safety, we came all the way out here to make sure you were prepared for it.”

Stewart avoided eye contact with me as he shuffled his feet around in silence. Watching him while I waited for a response, the other matter of the stolen food items popped into my head.

“By any chance, do you know who stole those chips and soda from Mrs. Hubbard’s Cupboard?” The youngest pig’s eyes looked straight into mine, then quickly looked away as if he was trying to hide something.

“I-I was hungry,” he said nervously, as his eyes continued to avoid mine. “But, I didn't steal them!” he denied, waving his hands frantically.

“Sure, you didn’t.” Actually, he was probably telling me the truth. He was a terrible liar. “I'll check with Steve, then. But, I'm completely serious when I'm telling you that you need to find a new place soon.”

“Cranky old man.” I heard a swift whisper as I began to turn away from the young pig’s home. I quickly looked back to see Stewart straighten up and shut the door which made the front wall of his house wobble.

I sighed. Maybe Steve will listen to reason; he was a bit smarter.

I knocked on his door. It was wood, but so paper thin, I could hear the rap a little too well. “It's Mr. Wulf, Steve.”

“Whatever was stolen, it wasn't me,” came an irritated voice from inside. Yeah, he was definitely the one who took them. But, that's not the main reason I'm here.

“Open the door, Steve. I'm not here to berate you on your shoplifting endeavors. That's Blue’s job.” One that he's neglecting.

With a sudden opening of the wooden door, Steve poked his head out in annoyance. “What do you want?”

“Just a bit of a warning about the windstorm that’s coming in. You and Stewart's houses aren't quite structurally strong enough to withstand it. I warned your brother, but he didn't listen,” I explained. Seriously, can these kids respect authority for once? Especially when it comes to their own safety.

“Oh... yeah, we’ll be sure to do… something about that.” His head immediately retreated from the doorway and he shut the door with a loud slam.

“I'm telling you two to move!” I yelled as he slammed it shut.

“Leave me alone,” he muttered through the peephole.

I started to turn around, walking away with a shrug. “Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you.” At this moment, my ear twitched and I felt my tail stand on end. The storm!

But, before I could warn them, a big gust of wind came, blowing both of their houses off their hinges!

Stewart was the first to freeze in his tracks, hand stuck inside a cookie jar. He was shocked, barely able to get his hand out of the jar before he started crying his eyes out.

Steve groaned, mumbling something about “peace and quiet” before angrily pointing a finger at me. He wasn't going to blame this on me, was he?

“Y-you Big Bad Wolf! You huffed and puffed our houses down!” No, of course, he would. Brilliant liar.

“No, the storm did. Looks like you might need to move in with Stanley,” I mentioned, seeing this coming.

The brothers mumbled among themselves before Stewart let out a whine. “I don’t wanna move in with Stanley” he cried. Steve rolled his eyes at the younger brother.

Stewart was the first to freeze in his tracks, his hand stuck inside a cookie jar. He was shocked, barely able to get his hand out of the jar before he started crying his eyes out.

Steve groaned, mumbling something about “peace and quiet” before angrily pointing a finger at me. He wasn't going to blame this on me, was he?

“Y-you Big Bad Wolf! You huffed and puffed our houses down!” No, of course, he would. Brilliant liar.

“No, the storm did. Looks like you might need to move in with Stanley,” I mentioned, seeing this coming.

The brothers mumbled among themselves before Stewart let out a whine. “I don’t wanna move in with Stanley!” he cried. Steve rolled his eyes at his younger brother.

At all this commotion, Stanley slowly opened the door of his own house, the only one that wasn't blown away by the wind.

“What are you crying about?” he asked, giving Stewart an annoyed look.

“We’re gonna be homeless!” the pig bawled.

Steve rebutted, “No, we aren’t. We’ll just have to live with Stanley.”

“I have to live with you brats again?” Stanley snorted at the thought.

Big Man Blue finally joined the scene. “Looks like the weatherman was right.  I hope you boys listened to Mr. Wulf,” Blue said, looking proud of my job. “Hey... Steve, aren’t those the snacks from Mrs. Hubbard’s Cupboard?”

Steve looked down at the bag of chips in his hand, looking slightly ashamed and quickly hid it away before speaking.

“Well,” Steve began, “Well, Mr. Wulf blew down our houses!”

“He’s lying. As usual,” I automatically responded. “It was obviously the wind.” I don’t have that sort of lung power.

“Don’t worry, I know you wouldn’t do something like that,” Blue responded. “You boys should watch the weather channel more often. Now, Wulf,” he continued, turning to me, “their houses were clearly not up to code.  Should they have to pay the usual fine?”

The pigs looked startled. They weren’t used to fines, and Stewart probably couldn’t pay the fine anyway.

“No, there aren’t any houses to fine. Besides, they will probably learn their lesson by living with their older brother,” I said, “as soon as Steve pays for his little snack and apologizes to Mrs. Hubbard.”