The story of the boy who cried wolf as hurriedly told by my wife the other night while wrestling with a way over-tired but sleep-resistant baby daughter:

Once there was a boy named Peter, and he was a sheep herder. One day Peter got bored so he cried wolf, "help, help!" All the townspeople came to see what was happening and there was no wolf so they got mad at Peter. He did it like three more times and finally nobody came and the wolf ate Peter and all the sheep. Because that's what happens when you have sheep.

I don't know about you, but I think that's the way it was truly meant to go.