For the Newbie ListMember Who Asked What the Deal Was
With the Pigs: Hilary & Camilla have already provided
you with the basics: the pig aristocracy, Porky and
Porquetta, and those adventurous piggy "angels",the
Cincy Fliers, and I'm sure you've already heard about,
and seen in action, thanks to Hans, Don's fierce
Arkansas Razorbacks. Last but definitely not
least,John Bjork's Parkinsaw Chronicles is required
reading.Now we turn to simpler matters. As the
"mother" of the Connecticut pigs, I would like to
present their story.They are the new kids on the
block, the newbies, so to speak.There are 8 of them,
and they once lived next door to Home Economics/media
guru, Martha Stewart, in beautiful suburban Westport,
CT. They fled CT to seek political asylum in
Parkinsaw, fearing porcine persecution and Martha's
frying pan. They arrived in Parkinsaw via Parcel post,
having failed in their efforts to fly there, being
wingless, and having been kicked off a commercial
flight after raising a ruckus about not being able to
sit next to the Pope (but that's another story.)This
is why they are now known as the Parkinsaw Parcel Post
Pigs, or PPPpigs.Once they arrived at the
(Pig)Sanctuary,lacking discipline and being away from
home for the first time, all hell broke loose. They
were lured into the underground PolkaNet Bar & Grille
by a Boar from N.Y.C.(a former shock-jock talk show
host,)and began pursuing a life of fast women,high
times, countless bottles of LevoLager, and endless
all-night polkaing to the music of the Six Fat
Dutchman.They were saved from this life of debauchery
by Nails Noogan, ex-Marine,who pignappped them back to
the Sanctuary,de-programmed them, and set up a boot
camp. This worked for 7 little pigs, but not for the
8th,named D.D.DeVille, who went AWOL, turned against
his fellow porkers, and joined the Boar from N.Y.C.,
who was by this time was traveling with an accomplice,
a turn-coat Arkansas Razorback. This Traitorious Trio,
as they are now known, are, even as we speak,roaming
the world, leaving a trail of malicious mischief (and
wrinkled Twinkee wrappers and empty LevoLager
bottles), sullying the good name of pigs
everywhere.(Kind of long, but you did ask.)
Til ALL Pigs Fly.
Carole Hercun
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