Morning On A Pig Farm

The 4AM alarm rings loudly as it has for the past twelve years.  Coffee is made and waiting.  Munrab makes his way to the porch to get the first peek at this mornings beautiful sunrise.  The air is crisp and clean… except for the occasional stench of the hog shit passing by in the light breeze.  Forty three acres of hog farm – a beautiful 4300 sq. ft. two story farm house – a new car and pickup in the garage -- all paid for by raising and selling registered Piney Woods Rooters.  

The pigs in the distance see Munrab walking onto the porch with his first cup of coffee. They begin to slowly move toward the slop troughs with belly grunts and oinks as they do every morning.  Their lives revolve around being fed at the slop trough.  Munrab is their master and sole caretaker.  In the bedroom, still in deep sleep, is Munrab’s beautiful wife.  She has a five day a week housekeeper and is maintained in lavish lifestyle by the Piney Woods Rooters. 

Four thirty AM – two downed cups of coffee – pigs coming to slop troughs – Munrab slips on his high hipped shit boots for today’s feeding.  The sun is just peeking over the horizon as Munrab opens the back of his work truck to pull forward the food and garbage collected for feed from the local restaurants and stores.  The Rooters hear the truck gate open and grunt louder and louder as they pick up the pace toward the slop troughs.  Munrab sees the sun rising slightly higher and pauses to reflect: “Forty three paid for acres of land – no mortgage on my beautiful house – two vehicles with clear titles – two hundred thousands dollars of registered Piney Wood Rooters bought and paid for – one hundred thousand plus dollars in the bank – a beautiful young wife who serves up a helping of pussy once a week – Life is beautiful!”   

The feed truck is backed in place.  Munrab slides the first pale of slop toward the troughs as the Rooters run faster and faster toward him – all grunting and oinking with glee.  One, two, three, four, five, six, --- twelve new Rooters today.  The Rooters begin to surround Munrab as the first pale of slop hits the trough.  He looks at the new pigs as he stands six inches deep in pig shit.  “You little mother-fuckers, slop eating pieces of shit -- I’d like to knock everyone of you despicable pieces of shit wallowing animals in the head and get you out of your misery of depending on me everyday!”  “I hate all you bastards and your shit slop eating ways.”  “All you do is wallow in shit, eat slop, fuck, and have babies!”  “One day I’m going to kill all of you shit slop eating mother-fuckers.”  One of the big bore stud hogs approaches Munrab and bumps him forcefully on his leg demanding he is entitled to first and most slop.  “You big lazy pig fucking slab of shit, bump me again like that and you will be bacon and pork roast before the sun sets!”  “I’ll take this stick and cram it down your throat so fuck’n far it will make your dick drag in the shit – then I’ll stomp your dick off with my shit boots!”  The retched smell of pig shit, slop, piss, and spoiled garbage makes Munrab gag and throw up a cup of coffee.  The pigs rush to eat the vomit. 

Quarter until seven.  Today’s feeding done.  Hip shit boots washed and hung on the hook until tomorrow’s feeding.  Time to enjoy the rewards of pig farming.  Today’s paper will be here sharply at seven AM delivered by Dewald the twelve year old paperboy.   Munrab gets another cup of coffee to enjoy with this mornings newspaper.  Six fifty eight… fifty nine.. and no Dewald.  “Where is that little bastard?”  “I want to read the fuck’n  paper!”  “He damn  well knows I’m waiting on him every morning.”  “I have to know what’s going on in the rest of this fucked up world.”  Two past seven.. Munrab gets his double barrel shotgun from behind the door.  Dewald rounds the turn in the road heading toward Munrab’s toss point.  As Dewald approaches  Munrab’s fence beyond the porch he’s yelling, “I’m sorry – I’m sorry”.  Munrab fires one shot in front of Dewald’s bicycle which brings it to an abrupt stop.  Trembling with fear Dewald begins to explain, “Mr. Munrab, I’m so sorry but my mother was terribly ill this morning and I had to tend her before I started my paper deliveries.”  Munrab raises his gun again, “I don’t give a rats ass about that whoring mother of yours.. I want my paper here at seven AM.. not one after, not two after, not three after, but at exactly seven AM.”  “I ought to take this gun and blow that fucking bicycle of yours to bits.”  “Then your little ass can walk to deliver the papers cause that whore, drug eating, mother of yours will never buy you another bike.”  “Do you understand me you little bastard!”.  Dewald hung his head, “ Yes sir.. yes sir… I’ll never be late again.”    

Munrab eases back in his rocker, grasp his coffee, and begins reading the headlines of the day.  “Iran Test First Nuclear Bomb”… “Teacher Arrested for Sexually Molesting Twelve Students”…. “Pope Resigns Under Pressure”… “Senate Passes 20% Federal Use Tax”… “Latest Census Shows California 94% Hispanic”… “Government Regulates Pork and Cuts Market Price by 75%”…  Nine ten AM --  news is read.  Munrab folds his paper and goes inside.  

Nearing the bedroom he sees his beautiful young wife still peacefully sleeping.  Munrab quietly knocks on the open door, “Dear, dear, are you awake?”.  A muffled, “well I wasn’t”, comes from the bed.  Munrab ask quietly, “darling would you mind making me breakfast this morning?”  “For some reason I’m terribly hungry.”   Munrab’s wife raises abruptly up in the bed, “Munrab you lazy good for nothing, can’t you see I’m resting!”  “You know how to cook as well as I do!”  “Cook your damn breakfast yourself.”  “I have three social meetings today that are going to be very trying on me and I need my rest.”  “I can’t believe you worthless piece of shit woke me up to cook your breakfast!”.  Munrab turns, walks slowly away then turns back and ask, “Are we still going to have our weekly morning in bed tomorrow?”  She shouts, “We’ll just see what tomorrow brings!”   Munrab turns and replies, “yes dear.” 

Friday’s Newspaper Headline:  “Pig Farmers Wife Found Molested and Strangled To Death in Bed – Twelve Year Old Paperboy Is Person Of Interest… coroner has determined time of death to be approximately 7 AM.   

Barnum Taylor © 2010