Monday, August 24, 2009

Oink the Pig.

When the men from the ministry paid their second visit to old man Macdonald’s farm, they didn’t just bring along their briefcases and forms. The first time they’d come to visit they’d shaken their briefcases and waved their forms, but old man MacDonald wouldn’t let them in. He’d shaken his fist and waved his shotgun, and when the visit was over nobody was smiling. The second time they came to visit, they came prepared.

The second time the men from the ministry visited old man MacDonald’s farm, they brought their briefcases and they brought their forms, but they also brought camera crews and cops. When old man MacDonald tried to shake his fist and wave his shotgun, some policemen hugged and tugged him into the back of their van. Now the men from the ministry could do their job.

First they rounded up all the ragged grey sheep and put them in a high sided lorry. Next they loaded cages full of scrawny hens into the back of a van. Finally they gathered up all the crops old man MacDonald had growing in his attic and handed them over to the police. With everything taken care of, the men from the ministry went home, and this time they were all smiling because of a job well done.

Alone and overlooked in a shabby wooden shed was Oink the pig. He had never left the shed and the only light he’d ever seen was whatever managed to squeeze through the rust holes in the roof when the sun shone bright. Eventually, driven by curiosity and hunger, he nosed open the door of his shed and immediately retreated back inside. His eyes blazed from the brilliance outside, and fat pig tears rolled down his dirty pig face, leaving pink tracks in the grime.

With the sunlight now spilling into the shed through the open door, Oink’s eyes slowly adjusted and he cautiously ventured out once more. Unfamiliar heat warmed his snout, as Oink inched into the yard beyond his shed.

“They’ve all gone, Oink,” said a voice from above.

Oink looked up to see his only friend in the world, Charlie the crow. Charlie sometimes perched on the roof of Oink’s shed and told him what was happening in the outside world. Charlie’s stories were often very frightening and there were many nights Oink couldn’t get to sleep because of them.

“Men came and took everything away,” said Charlie. “I’ve seen it happen before, and they won’t be back. You’d better clear off, Oink. There’s nothing for you here, now.”

“Why didn’t the men take me away too?” Oink asked.

“Why would they bother with a stupid little pig like you, Oink?” Charlie said, ruffling the feathers round his neck. “Just clear off, and don’t come back.”

“But-” Oink began to say, but Charlie hopped and fluttered down from the roof of the shed, landing on Oink’s head.

“Tough love! Tough love!” squawked Charlie, pecking encouragingly at Oink’s eyes. “Run away, stupid pig. Run away!”

Oink ran for all he was worth, tossing his head from left to right to dislodge Charlie. Luckily, Oink found the open gate out of the yard and was soon on the road outside. As he left the yard, Charlie flew off his head and perched on the chain link fence.

“Keep running, stupid pig,” Charlie called after the galloping figure dissapearing into the distance.

Oink ran until he could run no more. He didn’t like the game his pal, Charlie, was playing. Why did Charlie always have to act so funny, he wondered.

It was time for Oink to take stock of his situation. He was a clever and resourceful pig, and he would not let this situation get him down.

“I am a clever and resourceful pig!” Oink declared, “and I will not let this situation get me down.”

When he had recovered his breath, Oink set off down the road, determined to find himself a new home and lots of new friends. Within just a few hundred yards he caught sight of a mommy dog stretched out by the side of the road with her puppies playing around her.

“Here’s the perfect opportunity for me to make some new friends,” Oink said to himself. He trotted over excitely to speak to the doggies.

The mommy dog stood up and walked stiffly in front of her pups. She had a great big grin on her face and was rumbling a greeting to Oink as he approached.

“Oink! Oink! I’m a pig,” Oink said. “What are you?”

With lightning speed the mommy dog leapt forward and clamped her jaws around Oink’s nose. She clung onto his nose as Oink squealed and squirmed, and didn’t let go until Oink ran away and was far from her puppies.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Oink said to no-one in particular. “I wonder what I did wrong?”

Oink continued on down the road and soon saw a chestnut coloured horse, grazing on the tall grass that grew nearby.

“Now there is somebody looking for a new amigo,” Oink said confidently. Without a second thought, and brimming with optimism, Oink gayly went to greet the horse.

“Oink! Oink! I’m a pig,” Oink said. “What are you?”

The horse regarded him out of one eye and slowly began to turn.

“That’s a little rude,” Oink thought, as the horse had turned its back on him. He was quite surprised when it lashed out with its two back legs and sent Oink tumbling end over end back up the street.

Oink picked himself up and continued on his way, quickly hurrying past the horse, on the opposite side of the road. A little further along he saw a placid cow, lost in thought.

“In for a penny...” mumbled Oink, as he slowly sidled over beside the cow.

“Oink! Oink! I’m a pig,” Oink said. “What are you?”

A series of dark days and darker nights flashed through Oink’s mind as he flew through the air.

When he hit the ground where the bull had tossed him, Oink said, “That wasn’t so bad.” Then the bull was on top of him again, dancing up and down Oink’s spine until he got tired and wandered back to his thinking spot.

Oink lay on the ground for a long time, going over in his head what he had done wrong. Eventually he picked himself up, dusted himself down and set off down the road again, whistling a merry tune about how things have to get worse before they can get better. A few minutes later he spied a pretty lady pig, rolling about in a pig puddle of mud. Oink had never seen another pig before, all he could see was a friend he hadn’t made yet.

Recent events had made Oink a little cautious, so he watched the lady pig for a long time before going over to say hello.

“Oink! Oink!” Oink began, but he couldn’t help but think about the mommy dog, and the horse, and the bull, and he thought he knew why they’d been less than glad to meet him. So he said, “Oink! Oink! I’m a cat. What are you?”

Now the lady pig was full of hormones, and she didn’t like it when people tried to make fun of her. She beat Oink around the head with her trotters, she bit him along his back and finally she reached down his throat until her trotter popped out of his butt, and grabbed hold of his curly tail. With a tremendous jerk she pulled poor Oink inside out and left him a blubbering blubbery mess by the side of the road.

As she went away, Oink thought to himself, “F*ck me, and I thought it was rough being a pig.”


  1. And you accuse me of torturing my characters? Poor Oink. He never stood a chance.

  2. heh
    *shaking head*
    I love how Oink gets beat up so badly, turned inside out no less, and still manages to think.
    Very funny.
    One question: what's a trotter?