The Reason I Don't Write Fables

For all of you who have ever asked "Mattie, why don't you write fables like Aseop?" This is why:

Peter's eyes glittered mischievously as he stared at the perfectly made pie sitting on his mother's window sill. Just then, Heidi Hillegrade began walking up the street. Peter just couldn't resist as he looked at the pie and then back at his grade school nemesis.

Peter pulled his sleeves down to cover his palms as he reached over to pick up the fresh pie. Then he ran towards the door.

"Heidi!" He called, as he closed in on the unsuspecting girl. Heidi turned just as Peter let the pie fly from his fingers. Time seemed to slow down as the apple pie flew towards Heidi. Her eyes widened and then BAM! the pie struck her face, knocking her to the ground.

As Heidi wiped the gooey crusts from her face, Peter broke into a laughing fit. Without saying a word, Heidi pushed herself up off the ground and walked past Peter's bent over form and back towards her house.

Just then, Heidi's father, pulled up in his blue and white cop car. Peter froze, mid laugh, as he watched Heidi's father walk up the sets and into his house. Peter's heart began pounding as he heard the sound of Heidi's father demanding to know what had happened to her. Without a second thought, Peter turned tail and raced away from the scene of the crime as fast as his young legs could carry him.

Heidi's father was right behind him.

Peter ran through town, and all the way up to the Canadian boarder before losing Heidi's father. Now he lives his life as a hermit in a rundown little tree-house in northern Canada.

The moral of the story is don't smash a pie in a girls face.