Login | Signup

Andy’s Madison County Fables

05.11.09 02:59 PM – Andy McDonald
The Three Little Pigs

Once upon a time there were three little pigs cowering in a brick house as the Big Bad Wolf pounded on their door. Already the wolf had blown down two of the little piggies’ houses, built with straw and sticks, respectively.

“Open the door,” howled the Big Bad Wolf,” Or I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in!”

“In your dreams, you hairy bastard!” answered one little pig. “I mean, not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!”

One of the pigs dialed 911, at which point, Madison County sheriff’s deputies came and arrested the wolf for attempted murder, wanton endangerment, criminal mischief first degree, trespassing, and harassing communications.

While lodged in the Madison County Detention Center, the wolf retained the services of attorney Jimmy Dale Williams.

In court, the first pig declined to testify after Williams, in pre-trial conference, pointed out that the straw house had been in blatant violation of numerous building codes.

After seeing what happened to the first pig, the second pig didn’t show up to testify about the destruction of his stick house because he had filed a grossly inflated damage claim to FEMA.

The third little pig, who was delinquent on his piglet support payments, decided he didn’t want to make a fuss and recanted his testimony.

As such, the prosecution agreed to dismiss the case of the Commonwealth vs. Big Bad Wolf.

The last pig sold his brick house and got a construction job in Scott County.

Moral of the story: Just win the damned case.

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

One day while a family of three bears was out for a morning stroll in the woods, Goldilocks happened upon their charming little cottage.

Goldilocks ate some of their porridge, broke some of Bear family’s furniture, and then settled down in the den to watch cable TV.

When the Bear family returned, they were astonished.

“Somebody’s been eating my porridge,” began Mama Bear.

“Yeah, yeah,” Papa Bear grumbled dismissively as he lumbered toward the den. “They better not have taken the stereo this time.”

Goldilocks, having fallen asleep in the den watching Oprah, opened her eyes to see the three bears glaring at her.

“Somebody’s been eating my porridge,” Baby Bear said menacingly.

“Somebody broke my rocking chair,” added Mama Bear sternly.

“And somebody’s been…”

Just then, Richmond attorney Michael Eaves burst into the room with a property deed in his hand.

“This property has been acquired to become the new Family Court building,” Eaves said. “Now all of you get the hell out.”

Moral of the story: Look, do we need a new Family Court building or not? Then shut your pie hole.

Jack and the Beanstalk

After a giant sprout grew toward the heavens and through the clouds, Jack climbed the huge bean stalk to find a sleeping giant guarding a sparkling trove of treasure.

“Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum,” the giant roared as he awoke. “I smell someone from Mad-i-son.”

Jack didn’t want any trouble. He had three outstanding warrants against him for failure to appear in Madison District Court.

As Jack scrambled down the beanstalk, the giant chased him, grasping awkwardly at the green vines with his huge hands.

A terrified Jack managed to reach the bottom of the beanstalk, where he grabbed a chainsaw out of his truck, then severed the bottom of the stalk. The hapless giant perished when he came crashing to the ground.

Madison County residents were delighted that the mean old giant was dead, and life was very good for Jack until the giant’s bloated, immense corpse began to decompose in the Kentucky sun.

Next thing he knew, Jack was standing on his front porch facing an angry mob of county residents who were fed up with the stench of the deceased giant.

Just when Jack was sure the mob would erupt with rage, Madison County Property Valuation Administrator Billy Ackerman walked up and handed Jack a revised tax bill.

Jack was livid. “Are you kidding me? How can you say my property value has changed this much when I have a 200-foot-long, dead, stinking giant covering most of my property? I mean, look at all these people!”

The PVA surveyed the crowd thoughtfully. “You’re right,” Ackerman replied, and took the bill back. After some figuring, he handed Jack the revised tax bill.

“What the ####??" Jack protested. "You made my tax bill even higher?”

“I didn’t realize your property was such a tourist attraction,” the PVA replied.

Moral of the story: It’s always advisable to check with your accountant or tax advisor before installing a 200-foot-long, dead stinking giant on your property.

Advertise with us by calling 979-3690