Joke of the Day (That Escalated Way Further Than Expected): The Three Little Pigs Go Out to Dinner

So the Three Little Pigs decide to treat themselves and go out to dinner one night. No construction, no wolves, no huffing and puffing—just a nice evening out.

They get seated at a cozy table, menus in hand, feeling very grown-up about the whole thing.

A waiter comes over, all smiles, not yet aware of what he’s walked into.

“Can I start you off with something to drink?” he asks.

The first little piggy doesn’t even hesitate.
“I’ll have a Sprite,” he says confidently.

The second pig nods. “I’ll take a Coke.”

Then the waiter turns to the third pig.

“I want water,” the third pig says, dead serious. “Lots and lots of water.”

The waiter blinks, scribbles it down, shrugs, and heads off.

A few minutes later, the drinks arrive. The pigs clink glasses—well, hooves—and settle in. The waiter comes back, ready to take their dinner orders.

“I’ll have the biggest, juiciest steak you’ve got,” says the first pig. “Medium rare.”

“Just a salad for me,” says the second pig. “Gotta watch my figure.”

The waiter turns to the third pig again.

“And for you, sir?”

“Water,” the third pig says. “Lots. And lots. Of water.”

The waiter pauses. Slowly lowers his pen. Looks at the pig.

“…You don’t want any food?”

“Nope. Water’s good.”

The waiter raises an eyebrow but writes it down anyway. He’s worked in restaurants long enough to know better than to ask too many questions.

Dinner arrives. Steak sizzling. Salad crisp and fresh. The third pig sits there happily chugging water like he’s training for a hydration marathon.

Slurp. Refill. Slurp again.

The waiter is starting to notice.

A little while later, plates are cleared. The waiter returns, dessert menu in hand.

“Anyone interested in dessert tonight?”

“Oh yeah,” says the first pig. “I’ll have a banana split. Extra whipped cream.”

“Root beer float for me,” says the second pig.

The waiter slowly turns to the third pig, already bracing himself.

“And for you?”

“WATER,” the third pig says enthusiastically. “LOTS AND LOTS OF WATER!”

At this point, the waiter snaps.

He looks around, lowers his voice, and says, “Sir… I don’t mean to be rude, but you’ve ordered nothing but water all night. Why?”

The third pig leans back in his chair, wipes his mouth, and grins.

“Because,” he says proudly, “I’m waiting for the wolf.”

The first pig chokes on his dessert.
The second pig drops his spoon.

The waiter freezes.

“…The wolf?” he asks.

“Oh yeah,” the third pig says casually. “You know. Big guy. Bad breath. Always angry. Blows houses down? That wolf.”

The waiter stares. “And… why are you drinking so much water?”

The pig leans in, lowers his voice, and whispers:

“I plan to put out the fire before he even lights it.”

Silence.

Then the waiter slowly nods, backs away, and mutters, “Yeah… that checks out.”

A few minutes later, the manager appears at the table.

“I hear we’re expecting… a wolf?” the manager asks cautiously.

“That’s right,” the third pig says. “He’s always dramatic. Shows up uninvited. Makes a scene.”

The manager sighs. “Would you like me to call security?”

“No need,” says the pig. “Just keep the water coming.”

Sure enough, the front door suddenly SLAMS open.

In walks the wolf.

Hair wild. Eyes narrowed. Chest puffed out like he’s ready to perform an opera of destruction.

“I FOUND YOU,” he growls.

The restaurant goes silent.

The wolf takes one step toward the table—and slips.

Because the third pig has flooded half the floor.

The wolf crashes down, slides straight past the pigs’ table, and slams into the dessert cart.

Banana splits everywhere.

Root beer floats sacrificed.

The wolf groans.

The third pig stands up, adjusts his napkin, and says, “See? Hydration is key.”

The waiter applauds.
The manager comped the meal.
And the wolf? Banned for life.

Moral of the story?

Never underestimate the pig who orders water.

Lots. And lots. Of water. 💧🐷😄