The Big Bad Musical One Shot

Court

 The Evil Stepmother was… perplexed, to say the least. She peered at her case through her glasses, briefly blocking out whatever piggy Two was rambling about.

     The Big Bad Wolf had his chapped lips caught between his sharp teeth and had his eyebrows pulled together in thought. His large, calloused hands held his head as he shook it.

    “Perfect.” He muttered, not aware that his words were audible. “My fate depends on two morons and one pig who has a stick up her arse.”

      A wolfette dressed in a red, shiny dress that hugged her curves perfectly growled from behind him. The Evil Stepmother turned her head enough so it wasn’t noticeable that she was looking back, but she had a perfect view of what was going on. The wolfette was baring her teeth and being physically restrained by two other wolffets in gold attire as she glared at the piggies.

       Evil stepmother shook her head and let out an exasperated sigh. She had worked many cases before, each one more bizarre than the last. Who rightfully had custody of Mowgli, weather or not Wendy Darling should be charged with attempt of murder, if Prince Phillip should be charged with sexual assault for kissing a girl in her slumber without consent. Needless to say, she chose complex cases when she could, and settled for easier ones when life was going slow.

    The song ended between the three little pigs and the jury clapped. The Evil Stepmother straightened the things on the table before her and cleared her throat. The wise old man was beaming in his seat, his gray curls bobbing with the shake of his head.
   
     “Bravo.” The old man laughed. The Evil Stepmother cleared her throat again, only this time louder, quickly catching the attention of the judge. “Hmm? Oh yes. Have you three ever tried to learn pig latin? My Grandpa always said it was important to learn pig latin. That and he also said ‘Sonny, when facing life's problems, sometimes you have to put a biscuit in your shoe.” He paused. “Because you know, the bread soaks up all of the bad stuff. And the sweat from your socks.”

    Cruella De Vil and Tinkerbell were caught face-palming in the crowd. The Evil Stepmother rolled her eyes and stepped around the table so she could lean back on it.

     “Permission to continue my statement?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

    “Do mermaids have gills that release bubbles every time the mermaid tries to speak?” The Wise Old man asked, looking around at the people. Heads tilted in confusion and groans were heard. “Oh, that’s a yes.” He shook his head, then paused like he was making sure that statement was true, before continuing the up and down motions of his head.

    “Mmm yes, they do indeed.” The Evil Stepmother muttered. “So, Two-”

     “It’s pronounced ‘T -woah.’” Little piggy two remarked from behind her sister. Her red braids dangled over her shoulders and had a bit of straw caught in it.

     “Do forgive me.” The Evil Stepmother tilted her head forward in apology. “T-woah, you claim you made your house out of straw, am I not correct?”

     Two scrunched her face up as she thought real hard about her answer. Three leaned back to whisper in her younger sister’s ear.
  
    “Yeah! I did!” Two’s country twang strong. She giggled before tilting her head. “Why?”

   “Yes, that’s what I feared.” Lady Tremaine adjusted her glasses and pushed herself forward. “Three, when you and your sisters left your parents home, you were aware of their, uh-” She cleared her throat. “Lack of knowledge on architecture, correct?”

     Three raised her eyebrows and rubbed her temples. Two and One were clutching onto her blue overalls, curiously peering over her shoulders.