In a remote town surrounded by a beautiful tropical forest lived three little pigs. The first house was made of straw delivered every year from China; this resulted in a shabby and delicate exterior. In this thatched house lived Mr. Chopkins, an old pig with a protruding bell, who only ate McDonald's because it was just a few meters from his house. Mr. Chopkins could have gone to the salad bar at the top of the hill but could never get far enough. Mrs. Looks lived in the second house. Her house was made of whimsical sparkling pink twigs imported from Paris. Every morning she jogged up the hill to eat at the salad bar, she only had fruit and vegetables. Mrs. Looks was a skinny pig who never liked to be called "pig"; he thought it was terribly offensive. His wardrobe was custom-made by famous Italian designers, and more than half of his clothes he had never worn before, but he insisted he needed more. The third house was made strictly of ordinary crimson bricks. The bricks came from the owner's parents' local farm. In this brick house was Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith lived a conventional life. He wore casual clothes and worked five days a week in the office. In the morning he read the newspaper while drinking coffee. On a humid and sunny morning, Mr. Saleswolf arrived in the town that was difficult to locate, he was outraged by the amount of fuel consumed by his hot and sizzling Ferrari. Today, Mr. Saleswolf was wearing his favorite navy shirt, tucked into black dress pants. Then he confidently approached the first house. “Knock, knock, knock,” the wolf knocked. “Thump, thump, thump,” said the obese pig from inside. As soon as the door swings open, Mr. Saleswolf takes a quick look inside Mr. Cho... in the middle of a sheet of paper... crowding him like a swarm of bees, holding microphones and cameras. Mr. Saleswolf then decided to go to the hospital to prove his innocence. At the hospital, the two pigs, Mr. Chopkins and Mrs. Looks, lay on a stretcher. Mr. Chopkins and Mrs. Looks then proclaimed that Mr. Saleswolf was not trying to eat them, he was just trying to sell them household glue, and they said he was completely innocent. The next day, new rumors spread like fire; they claimed that the wolf sabotaged durable homes to sell his glue product. Some argue and wonder why he didn't destroy the last house. Mr. Saleswolf thinks to himself as he holds the new newspaper in his hand, “although completely innocent, why am I the scapegoat for society's accidents?” Mr. Saleswolf then goes off on a tangent and thinks, "maybe I should start my own newspaper company, I can imagine the buckets of money now…”