Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf? Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
The three little pigs were still dancing and singing and hooting and whistling and playing their fiddles. The wolf had been dead for . . . for who knows how long? He had huffed and puffed and finally hyperventilated himself into a debilitating stupor. Then he fell for the oldest trick in the book: down the chimney and into the cauldron.
The two foolish piglets thanked their practical brother for graphically demonstrating the comparative worth of brick housing in a world filled with lupine danger. But soon the merriment wore thin. What would the three little pigs do with themselves after disposing of the body?
After considerable discussion (although the two simpleton pigs will do anything their practical brother tells them to do) they reached a consensus: "Let's kidnap a rabbi!"
As Rabbi David Levi Zimlov left his study, he wondered if he had been too hard on his adult study group. So what if Mrs. Applebaum was a hypocrite for keeping a kosher house but taking her friends out to the Wong Fong for spare ribs, lobster cantonese, and mu shoo pork? With all the suffering and injustice in the world, that hardly seems worth even a mention on the Day of Atonement, does it?
Before he could double lock the door, Rabbi Zimlov was smothered by a blanket and carried off to a car. He struggled briefly but knew that he would need both his wits and his energy for later. As the car started, he heard a gravelly grunt, "We've got you now, Rabbi Zimlov." He also heard a duophony of high pitched squeals: "Oh yes we do! Oh yes we do!" Then came a bonk on the head and all went blank.
Life of the urban American rabbi is not without risk.
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