Friday Fictioneers: Porcine Piper

I’m early today and totally on the ball after last weeks indiscretion so thank you to Rochelle for being so understanding and not giving me 100 lines; I can only manage 100 words, once a week on a Friday!

Also thanks to Ronda del Boccio (what a fantastic name) for this evocative picture. So with out further ado I will say

On my marks…

Get set…

GO!!!

A piper’s house is nowhere for a person with a propensity for tinnitus to live. Tom-Tom’s father’s piping was awful, so was it any wonder he was driven to a life of clandestine nocturnal husbandry.

He saw himself as a kind of Porcine Robin Hood; in the duskiness he would plunder the pigs, steal away into the woods and release them one by one into the gloaming.

Home beatings were harshly habitual but to hear the pigs snuffling and truffling in the forests was some consolation.

Local police couldn’t patch the Piping and Pignaps together, Tom was so sagaciously sapient.

Ha!! 100 words on the nose, I’m pleased with this one, and the alliteration abound! Hope you all enjoy it, see if you can guess which nursery rhyme I have bastardised today.

 

 

 

34 comments

  1. Dear Shrawley,

    You made me dig for this one. I couldn’t for the life of me connect this with nursery rhyme. Good ole Wikipedia led me down path and to the village square with the Piper’s son and pig thief. I’ve had a good wallow now and feel much better. Fun stuff. Oink means good job in Pig Latin. 😉

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

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