Episode 1: “Brick in the Wall: A Fairy Tale Romance”

Genre: Romance

Protagonist: Goofy

Antagonist: Pretentious

Subgenre 1: Fairy Tale

Subgenre 2: Dealer’s Choice - Fantasy

Must Contain: A shootout

Trope: Animal Protagonist

Once upon a time, a young pig named Peter lived in a straw cottage on a plot of farmland. Every morning, he would rise from his shifty mattress, stare at the rising sun with his coffee in hand, and meticulously write down all his tasks for the day. This morning, however, would not be like the rest. A rude surprise was on its way down the road. 

Peter watched from his garden as a small caravan stopped just past his fence. The horses removed the chest straps used to pull the caravan and retreated to a shaded area to snack on apples. Meanwhile, a wolf and a sheep stepped out of the carriage. The wolf stood tall in a conspicuous maroon suit with a cape attached to the shoulders. Nervously pacing behind him was the sheep, who fumbled with a clipboard and some papers. Both of them stared at an expansive, grassy plain, most of which housed the crops from Peter’s farm. The sheep apologized as he stumbled toward the wolf and hit his head against the wolf’s elbow. 

“Grant, will you please mind your steps?” the wolf said as it brushed off his suit’s sleeve. “This fabric picks up wool very easily.”

“Yes, sir. Very sorry, sir,” the sheep mumbled. “Anyway, sir, this is the last plot of land for us to look at. Is this to your liking?”

The wolf surveyed the field and met eyes with Peter, who was sitting in a rocking chair. “The acreage will do. But what are those vegetables doing here? I believe you said this was an empty plot.”

“Yes sir, yes sir! This land once belonged to Mr. Patrick Pig, but last year, he became ill.”

“Has he healed?” the wolf pointed toward Peter, who left his chair and retreated back into the cottage.

“No, sir. I believe his kid has taken over the farm.” 

“Then I shall go speak to him,” the wolf straightened his jacket and reached over the fence’s gate to undo the latch. As he approached the front door, it swung open. Peter got startled and jumped, sending hot coffee flying onto the wolf’s suit. Peter rushed to offer the wolf a towel, but the wolf swatted the towel away. “That cheap material will shed onto this suit. No matter, I’ll handle this later.”

“I’m really sorry, mister,” Peter’s remorse flashed in his watering eyes. “What can I do for you?” 

The wolf glared at him. “Now that my suit has been ruined, I guess I shall state my purpose. My name is Benjamin Wolf, and I’m keen on building my dream castle on your land.”

“On my land? Why would you want to do that?” 

“My assistant tells me that the sunrises are gorgeous, the flat land is perfect for any expansions, and because I want to.” The wolf let out a haughty laugh. “Now, how much will you take for the land?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Peter huffed.

“What?” the wolf roared.

“This was my daddy’s farm! Without the obstructions of hills or forests, the crops here are the most fertile they can be. Now I know I ain’t a smart one; I didn’t go to any Mage’s Academy like you…”

“So, you must have seen the symbol on my cape,” the wolf turned. “Great observation. I graduated top of my class and have immense control over my powers. Do you know what that means, pig?”

“It means…that you’ve spent all your life with your nose in a book instead of having a real job?” Peter remarked. 

“NO!” the wolf growled. “It means that I will ruin your little farm if you don’t hand over the land.” 

“Did they ever teach you any spells to make you hear better?” Peter stomped forward. “I’m giving up nothing!” 

The wolf scanned the structure of the cottage. “You only built this little house out of hay?”

“And how!”

“I bet it’s withstood the most powerful of storms, the most violent of earthquakes, and the accidents that happen along this road,” the wolf smirked. “But can it withstand the power of wind? Grant! My staff!”

The sheep jumped at the calling of his name. Flustered, he tripped his way to the caravan and opened a secret compartment. The sunlight reflected off the green gem nestled at the top of the elaborately carved staff. He ran toward the wolf, who snatched it out of the sheep’s hand. A breeze rolled in as the gem started to glow. Peter grabbed his hat to stop it from flying away and retreated into the house. The wolf blared one final warning before a gust of wind swirled behind him into a small tornado. He stepped aside and pointed the tornado toward the cottage. As it uprooted the fence, Peter trembled from a cabinet in which he hid. The fence posts swirled inside the roaring wind, knocking off chunks of straw from the exterior of the cottage. Antique pots, furniture, and trinkets all flew out of the house as the tornado passed through the house. Peter’s hiding spot disassembled, so as the sink flew away, he held onto a pipe for dear life. The tornado soon traveled a mile through the carrot crop and dissipated. Peter’s cottage, which had stood firm for 5 generations, was reduced to rubble. 

“The cottage was hideous anyway,” the wolf chortled. “I’m sure the property value would have suffered if that eyesore remained.” He looked at Peter, who collected a broken framed picture of him and his old man. “Now that you don’t have a home, it’s time for you to run along.” 

Peter started to sob, “You’ve ruined my great great grandparent’s legacy! I didn’t even do anything to you.”

“All you had to do was hand over the land,” the wolf shrugged. “I would have paid handsomely.” 

Peter was sobbing too hard to respond. The farm that he had given up his life to protect was now in shambles. He looked back up at the wolf, who was talking to his assistant about his future castle’s layout. Without any more words, Peter rummaged through his field, grabbing what fully grown crops he could fit in his pockets, his shirt, and his arms, and hurried away. 

________________________________________________________________________________

By the next day, the nearby town had heard the fate of Peter’s cottage and his farmland. One villager happened to see Peter weakly walk into the town’s main square. He was carrying a tablecloth that had turned into a makeshift sack to carry his salvaged crops. The villager had beckoned him to open the sack so he could buy some produce in support of Peter’s rebuilding. The depressed pig obliged, accepting any amount of coin for the vegetables. Soon, a crowd started to gather. Many of them left as their most wanted items started to sell out. After some time, Peter had sold off 35 pounds of produce and acquired enough money to build another cottage, although still out of weaker material. 

One of the villagers had told him about a plot of land where Peter could rebuild. It was located in a valley just down the road outside of the town. Peter heaved the sack of produce over his shoulder and headed toward his prospective new home. Before he could leave the town square, his eyes were drawn to a three story brick house that leered over the other buildings. He approached curiously, examining the shutters, the slatted clay roof, and the steps leading to a boldly painted front door. Hoping someone in this building would buy the rest of his vegetables, he knocked on the solid oak door. As it opened, a larger pig created a shadow over Peter, who was trying to sooth the pain in his hand. 

“May I help you?” the large pig’s voice boomed. 

“Yes sir!” Peter quickly straightened himself. “I was wondering if you’d…” Suddenly, the loose knot on the sack unraveled, spilling his remaining produce onto the landing. 

“Wait a minute,” the gentleman bent down to help gather the vegetables. “You’re Patrick’s son, aren’t you?”

“You knew my pa?” 

“Well, of course. As mayor, I have to know everyone’s name.”

Peter stared, mouth agape, at the finely dressed pig. “You’re the mayor?”

“Indeed! Now, was there a matter you wish to speak of?” 

“Well, uh,” Peter struggled to form his words. “You heard what happened to my farm?”

“I have. Who is responsible for such destruction?” 

“My memory’s kinda hazy, but I think his name was Something Wolf. I don’t remember his first name, but he wore a nice suit, and he knew magic.”

The mayor shook his head. “Those mages are nothing but bullies. What business do they have out here in the country?” 

“The wolf guy’s saying he wants to build a big mansion right on my farmland. Don’t know why. That ground’s good for growing, but not so much for heavy construction.”

“Oh, father!” a female voice broke their conversation. “Who’s at the door?” Peter looked past the mayor to see a younger pig turn the corner. She ran with small steps, the train of her dress flowing behind her. As the morning sunshine cast its light on her brown eyes, Peter’s stunned expression met her kind gaze. 

“Erina, you might be able to help me with this,” the mayor wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close. “Mr. Peter?” 

“Um…I…yes?” his bewilderment would not escape his mind. He had crushes before, but none were as strong as this. Erina locked eyes with him, and his heart turned into his old garden, full of butterflies. 

“I’m sure you’re aware of the land in the valley on the outskirts of town?” 

“Yes, one of the villagers told me about it.”

The mayor smiled. “If you give me the rest of your produce, I will allow Erina to escort you to the valley. If you would find it suitable for growing your crops, then i”ll hand you the deed.” 

Peter wiped his eyes as tears started to well. “Sir, that land won’t be worth five pounds of produce. So let me make you this offer: if you’re kind enough to give me that deed, I’ll cook for you and your family every Sunday for the rest of my life, using my finest produce, of course.”

“Sounds magnificent!” the mayor beamed. “Your father was a phenomenal cook.”

“Mr. Peter?” Erina interrupted. “If I may have an hour to look presentable, I’ll guide you to the valley.” 

“I’d love that, Ms. Ingrid!”

“Erina,” she giggled as Peter’s face turned as red as one of his tomatoes. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Peter leaned up against a tree just off the trail, his heavy panting echoing through the rest of the forest. Erina had been keeping a purposeful pace, one that Peter couldn’t keep up with. She retraced her steps back to Peter and handed him a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow. Eventually, Peter sluggishly returned to the trail. Erina carefully walked beside him. 

“Are you okay, Mr. Pig?” Erina asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Peter huffed. “I’m exhausted.”

“We should have had you rest before taking this little adventure,” Erina laughed. While her tone was playful, her eyes displayed compassion. 

“No, it’s okay, miss.”

“You know, you don’t have to call me ‘ma’am’ or ‘miss’ or anything like that. Erina will do.”

“Are you sure? You are the mayor’s daughter. I don’t want to disrespect you in any way.”

“Please!” Erina waved off. “I’m an animal just like you. I’m a mayor’s daughter, and you’re a farmer. Either way, we benefit the community!” 

“I guess you’re right,” Peter nodded. The thicket of trees subsided as the pair started to navigate a mountainside leg of the trail. Erina pulled an apple out of her satchel and offered it to Peter. He gladly accepted as she pulled out a pear and bit into it. “So, how long has your father been mayor?” 

Erina finished chewing. “Only for the past two years. Before that, he was sheriff.”

“Wow! Sheriff?” Peter gasped. “What was that like?”

“Well, he didn’t like me leaving the house without him. He was always afraid someone was going to hurt me. So I stayed inside, took care of him, and learned how to crochet in my spare time.”

“Is that how you made your satchel?”

Erina held the bag up. “Yes! Do you like it?” 

“I think it’s nice!” Peter stuttered, nervous about complimenting her. “It’s even better because it’s handmade.”

“Thank you so much,” Erina smiled. “I bet the same could have been said about your crops.” Peter hung his head, still traumatized from the previous day’s events. Erina moved closer to him and put her hand on his shoulder. Peter gasped, his face blushing at the gesture. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Peter said with his gentlest smile. “I…uh…appreciate the compliment.” 

“Of course,” Erina took a step away. “Did you have anyone to come home to?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Peter…” Erina giggled. 

“Oh, right! I’m sorry,” Peter covered his mouth. 

Erina flashed a sly smirk. “I’m only teasing. I’m sure it's a habit for you.”

“Yes,” Peter curled his lip in embarrassment. “Anyway, I lived alone in that cottage. But I was still self-sufficient! My father taught me how to cook, and I just focused on tending the farm. I’m just used to it.” 

“Would you consider living with someone if you rebuild your cottage?” 

Peter paused. The thought crossed his mind of asking Erina to be the one that would live with him. But it was too soon. He had just met her. “When the right person comes along, I’ll happily allow it.”

“That sounds great,” Erina batted her eyelashes. 

As they continued their conversation, Peter’s heart sank with familiarity. The trail of uprooted grass and the scattered straw proved it…they were back in the field in which he lost his home. Except something was wrong. Next to the site of the devastation, stonemasons were hard at work building a foundation for what seemed like a massive mansion. Twelve of them seemed to work diligently on the incomplete wall, which stood about six feet high. Peter’s confusion overwhelmed his anger. He looked to Erina for answers.

“I thought we were going to the valley,” he said. “Why are we back here?”

“Because that mean old wolf shouldn’t have driven you from your land,” Erina shouted with confidence. “You, Peter, are going to take your home back, and I’m going to help you!”

“Hang on a second,” Peter frightfully looked at the building. “That wolf knows magic! My house will get torn to shreds again.”

“It won’t if it’s not made of straw. It needs a stronger material.”

“Like sticks?”

“No, silly! Like those,” Erina pointed to a pile of bricks near the workers.

Peter backed away, “Are you crazy? I don’t wanna cause any trouble by stealing those bricks.”

“Stealing?” Erina put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and whispered. “Go hide behind that tree. I’ll handle this.”

Peter nodded and retreated. As Erina approached the workers, Peter could faintly make out their conversation. 

“Hello there!” Erina shouted.

The workers stopped slathering spackle and climbed down from their ladders. “Ms. Erina?” said a gruff lion. “What are you doing here?”

“You must be the leader of this crew. What’s your name?”

“It’s Dartanion, but most people call me Dart.”

“Nice to meet you, Dart,” Erina analyzed the construction. “How’s this mansion coming along?”

“So far, so good,” Dart and the workers nodded. “Mr. Wolf is supposed to return in seven days, so we don’t have much time to slack off.”

“And it shows! While you are making good progress, I’ve come to deliver some bad news.”

The workers mumbled to themselves. A raccoon spoke up. “And what news is that?” 

“Mr. Wolf just came by the mayor’s office and asked for an addition to the build.” The workers looked at each other in confusion before Erina pointed to the old cottage’s foundation. “He would like a one story brick cottage right there.” 

Peter smiled wide. He had never encountered a woman so clever and confident. Dart silenced the confused chatter. “And he’ll pay?”

Erina reached into her crocheted satchel and pulled out a sack of coins. “The mayor is fronting the cost. Mr. Wolf is waiting for an advance from the Mage’s Academy.” 

“Done!” Dart snatched the coin pouch, bowed to Erina, then led the others back to work. 

“Mr. Dart?”

“Yes, Ms. Erina?”

“Do have the cottage completed by tomorrow morning. I have a designer coming to decorate it.”

“Yes, ma’am. It will be done,” Dart waved as the workers retreated toward the mansion and guided the workers to begin moving the bricks toward the wrecked cottage. Erina moved toward the tree where Peter stood wide-mouthed at her tactic. She gave him a gentle hug. His heart beat rapidly as he leaned his head on her shoulder. Tears started pouring from his eyes. 

“Thank you,” Peter whispered. 

“I’m glad I could help a kind person such as you,” Erina said softly. She pulled away but kept her hands on his shoulder. “Father told me he would have a room arranged for you at his home tonight. Now, let’s go back to town. You’ll need plenty of rest before you become a home designer.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

It had been one week since Erina’s daring stunt. Dart and his crew had laid the brick for Peter’s new cottage in two days before returning to work on the mansion. Peter moved into the cottage immediately, and Erina frequently visited to ensure his comfort during the transition. Together, they salvaged several of his belongings from the field during the day and redecorated the cottage at night. Every night, Peter would cook a hearty dinner for Erina before she went home. On the last night though, she had brought an extra bag containing multiple pieces of clothing. With Peter’s permission, she stayed overnight. He offered Erina his bed, but she declined in favor of a new couch that had been donated by one of the townsfolk. 

That night, Peter could hardly fall asleep. During the week, he had spent so much time with Erina that they felt increasingly comfortable with each other. He wanted to tell her how he felt about her, and with her staying overnight, it was the perfect opportunity. However, his nerves stopped him from doing so, and he allowed Erina to peacefully sleep. 

As the morning sun burst in through the window, Peter’s sleep was interrupted by a frantic shouting outside. He burst out of his bedroom to find Erina rubbing her eyes and pulling a curtain back. She waved him toward her, and as Peter approached the window, his heart jumped at a familiar maroon suit. Behind him, multiple guards with their bows and arrows drawn aimed directly at the wooden front door. 

“Pig!” the wolf barked. “Present yourself with haste!” 

Peter shivered in fright. He looked toward Erina, who gave him an encouraging nod and a determined smile. 

“I’m here for you, Peter,” she whispered. 

Peter smiled back as he cracked the front door. An arrow fired, lodging itself near the decorative window, and he retreated back into the cottage. 

“Excuse me!” the wolf snapped. 

“Sorry,” one of the guards sulked as he readied another arrow.

“Pig, I apologize for that false alarm,” the wolf said. “You may come out now.”

“Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin,” Peter shouted from behind the door. 

The wolf’s sly smile turned into an angry scowl. “Now, pig, you’re aware of what I’m capable of. You may have outsmarted the construction crew, but you cannot fool me. I told you that I would not have this eyesore of a cottage among my mansion grounds. If I need to destroy this one to emphasize my point, I’d be more than willing.” 

Peter paused and looked at Erina, who was frantically looking around the cottage. She stopped and mouthed something toward him. He peeked back outside the door and shouted with a newfound confidence, “Do your worst!”

The guards strafed away from the wolf as he conjured another tornado in front of him. As he pointed his staff forward, the tornado rushed through the front yard. Before it reached the cottage, the front door flew open, and Erina threw a sack of flour toward the tornado. A milky white cloud obscured the wolf’s vision, causing the tornado to remain stagnant. Despite the fence posts and flowers being uprooted, the house didn’t flinch at the destructive force. 

“Fire!” the wolf shouted. The guards blindly unleashed their arrows into the cloudy swirl. As they readied more arrows, a ball of mud flew from the gust, blinding one of them. More mudballs flew while the wolf retreated to his caravan. The tornado dissipated, and only two guards remained. One of them looked up to see a terracotta pot falling from above. It landed on their head, knocking them unconscious. Peter rushed toward the final guard. Right as the guard fired, Peter knocked his arm, causing the arrow to misfire toward a tree. It hit one of the branches, and an object fell to the ground. The guard’s eyes widened as the object began to buzz. Peter retreated toward the house as a swarm of wasps rushed toward the guard, who ran away as he yelped in pain. 

“We did it!” Peter shouted. Erina burst out of the front door and let out an excited holler. In his excitement, Peter rushed over to hug her, but before he could embrace her, calmed down and backed away.

Erina started to look concerned. “What’s wrong, Peter?” 

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.” 

“How so?”

“Well,” Peter stuttered. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

Erina smiled, moved closer to him, and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Does that make you feel more comfortable?”

Peter rapidly nodded, unable to speak from the surprise. But the slamming of a door snapped him out of his daze. Benjamin Wolf returned from his caravan. His staff contained noticeable claw marks, most likely from the angry wolf’s tight grip. All sense of manners dissipated as he glared at the pig. 

“How can a stupid farmboy like yourself take down my men with only flour and mud?” the wolf yelled. 

“And bees!” Peter remarked. “I guess you can say your loss…stung.”

The wolf growled. “Don’t you dare insult me. I graduated from the Mage’s Academy. I’m more powerful than anyone in this land. And when I say you’re going to do something, you do it!” A gust of wind ruffled the wolf’s cape as his staff’s gem glowed. “Now, time to blow your house down!” 

Peter gathered his courage and ran toward the wolf. A new tornado formed as Peter grabbed the staff. The wolf bore its teeth, but Peter remained undeterred. As he wrestled with the wolf, the tornado erratically circled in the cottage’s front yard. Suddenly, Peter got an idea. He overpowered the wolf’s strength and tilted the staff toward his left. The tornado avoided his cottage and made its way toward the mansion. 

But a mere pig wasn’t going to ruin Benjamin Wolf’s dream of owning a countryside mansion. He stepped on the pig’s foot. With Peter’s weakened strength, the wolf pulled the staff to an upright position, leaving the tornado swirling by the back left corner of the mansion. 

“Now, you boorish peasant,” the wolf growled. “Time to drive you away from here. This land doesn’t want you here!” 

Peter looked behind him to see the tornado turn brown as it pulled up the loose dirt from the mansion’s foundation. Cracks started to form on the walls of the mansion as it leaned into the tornado. The wolf desperately tugged the staff away, but Peter held on. 

“What’s happening to my mansion?” the wolf frantically asked as bricks fell from the walls. “Why is it crumbling?” 

“You mustn’t have remembered my warning,” Peter smirked. “The soil here is weak. With the dirt being pulled from under your home, your gaudy mansion will crumble to itty bitty pieces.”

“No!” the wolf pulled his staff out of Peter’s grip. “I will not let you destroy my dream!” He deactivated the staff and allowed the tornado to die down. A sigh of relief left him before the earth rumbled. The mansion continued to tilt into the ground, bricks shattering as the spackle gave way. Peter backed away as he witnessed a sinkhole open around the base of the wolf’s house and stared in awe as it steadily fell in, barely avoiding his cottage. 

The wolf collapsed to his knees. He approached the site of the wreckage and saw his feet parallel to the roof. Erina stood beside Peter and wrapped her arm around his. They stared at the defeated Benjamin Wolf, who was trying to hide his tears. 

“So,” the wolf said with a cracking voice. “Can I stay at your place for the night? The caravan is highly uncomfortable to sleep in.”

The pigs said nary a word as they pointed toward the caravan. Benjamin hung his head and skulked toward the caravan. The horses, who had missed the entire interaction, strapped themselves into the caravan and drug it away. 

Peter waited until the caravan was past the horizon to look at Erina, who had leaned her head against Peter’s shoulder. “Now can we say we did it?” Peter bumbled. 

Erina chuckled. “No. You did it.” 

“That’s not true!” Peter turned to face Erina and held both her hands. “Without your flour trick, I would’ve been skewered like a dartboard. Without your ingenuity, I wouldn’t have thought to toss that flower pot over the roof. And without the happiness that you’ve given me, I wouldn’t have had the courage to fight off one of the Mages. I’ve been pushed around a lot, but you taught me to fight back. And I love you for that.”

Erina blushed. “You what me for that?”

Peter stumbled. “Wait, what did I say?” 

“You love me for that?” Erina repeated. Peter tried to save himself from embarrassment, but his nervousness made him incoherent. He hid his face in his hands while she let out a loud laugh. She pulled his hands out of the way and shared a kiss with him. “I love you for that too. For who you are.” 

And so the pigs cleaned the front yard and retired for the evening. Peter filled in the sinkhole with dirt and reseeded the patch with clovers. Eventually, he tilled the field and started a new batch of crops. Townsfolk would often come out to visit him, eagerly awaiting the harvest so they could purchase his yield. But the most important townsperson to visit him was Erina. Every day, she would come over with bread, jars of honey, and fruit from the local market. She would also bring playing cards and board games, as her and Peter had come to enjoy some friendly competition. And just like he promised, every Sunday, he would arrive at the mayor’s house to prepare a hearty meal. Erina would come down the stairs in her finest gowns accented with crocheted shawls to help Peter prepare the meal, even when he insisted that she relax. 

After months of this routine, Peter finally asked Erina to live with him. The mayor overheard this conversation and approved of the arrangement if Erina wanted it. However, the mayor insisted that Peter live in his house for a week while he arranged a surprise. Knowing no crop harvests would be ready in the upcoming week, Peter agreed.

One week later, Peter and Erina took a carriage from the town to the farm. As they approached, Peter looked at the suitcases in the carriage’s trunk. He looked at Erina with a nervous excitement as they stopped. Erina hopped out of the carriage and let out a large gasp. Concerned, Peter exited quickly to see the mayor’s surprise: his middling cottage was rebuilt into a grand single floor rancher that had triple the square footage of his old dwelling. Peter held back tears as Erina lugged her suitcases toward the cottage. With a brand new abode to start their new life, they lived happily ever after. 

The End.

© D. S. Bertolo Books | 2023

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