“A wall?” asks Ms. Piggy.
“Not just any wall,” I (Mr. Piggy) say, “It’s a dam!”
“A dam of bricks.”
“It’s what the people want!”
“They wanted a dam. I don’t think a dam of bricks will be the strongest.”
“I’ve spent 3 months building it, it was made with the taxes of the town, the town filled with the people who wanted it.”
“People are coming in their Sunday best, we are here in our Sunday best, the mayor will be here in his Sunday best.”
The thought of the town finally giving their feedback was nerve wracking, but if they wanted to complain about bricks being the material they choose then they should complain to the funding. The thirty minutes leading to when the town’s population was going to see the dam was so long yet so short.
Soon the first family came, the wild hogs; Mr and Mrs Hogerald and their kid, Blub. Then it was the rabbits; Mr and Mrs Hareinson and their kids, Hayley, Cartson, Grabiel, Letty, Chilly, Bronicil and Beck. Rabbit and bunny families are hard to remember with all their kids. In all honesty I lost count of families when I was trying to remember the Hareinson children's names, but I saw how many families came when I changed my train of thought; practically the whole town was there, no, the entire town was there.
There was the mayor, Mr Badgersanchez, a badger, The councilmen, Ms. Aliphant, an elephant, Mr. Colton, a horse, and Mr. Desnyman, a desert rain frog. There was the contractor, his nickname is ‘Big Al’, he’s an alligator.
“So today’s the day you have to show them the wall…dam…thingy…” Stutters Big Al.
“Will they like it?” I ask.
“They had to pay for it…kinda… and it’ll benefit them… even if it's brick…”
“Will they criticize it because it’s brick?”
“Not at all! Actually, maybe they… actually, they most likely will… actually, they will… but it’ll be fine so go get them, Tiger… or Pig… or Pork Chop… wait, no… ignore that…”
Now, pushed on the stand to present to them, I announce “This is our new–”
“Wall?” questions Mrs. Hareinson.
“No, a dam” I answer.
“A dam of bricks?!” Gasps Mr. Hareinson, followed by other marks of criticism.
“Bricks aren’t even that sturdy!”
“It could fall easily because of the space between the bricks!”
“You used our tax money for a brick wall!”
“Please, please, it’s strong! And I can show you!” I reassure them, “I can punch the dam and it’ll be okay, I can body slam into the dam and it’ll be okay, a truck can hit it and it’ll be okay.” I give the dam a punch, the punch as light as a feather, but it falls down.
The bricks fall left and right. And the water, oh the water, it just pours and pours and pours and pours and floods. And the best clothes of everyone are now dripping wet. Wet socks, wet hair, wet shoes, wet everything!
The shouts of the people get ten times worse than before. Big Al, the mayor and me and Mrs. Piggy all hide our faces.
It feels like an eternity until I can get open. While I dry our clothes I begin to think. That was the third time we’ve made a brick dam, and they always fall down. If only we actually waited for good funding, or even did good funding, then maybe it’ll be successful. But we’ll have to spend two months planning and getting approved and another three months building all over again.
“Oh, the way bricks fall."
Photo by Unsplash
