Roger Maxson - Pigs In Paradise

“The pure of heart waddles in mud,” Mel said to his two henchmen, the Rottweilers Spotter and Trooper. They watched from the floor of the barn as Howard continued to baptize piglets, goats, and certain fowl in mud and water from the pond. “Stubborn pigs,” Mel said. “They are delusional. They think they’re doing God’s bidding. Take your pick, two idiots talking a good game. Fools both of them, but one talks my game while the other is of no consequence. We can stand to use a pet pig.”

Mel’s pet pig continued his teaching, “Blessed are the gentle lamb and the kid, the daughter and the son of the sheep and the goat, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after truth and righteousness, for they shall be filled with righteousness and truth. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy and be plentiful in heaven. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God upon entering the kingdom of paradise, which art in heaven.

“Blessed are those who are shepherded by righteous man, the Christian, for they are truly the true children of God, and shall be called as such, and their shepherds Godly. Blessed are those who are persecuted, marked for slaughter for righteousness’s sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. For righteousness’s sake allow yourselves to be ingested, digested, and well-rested, for eternal life in heaven is given to you who is risen through the digestive tract of righteous man, the Christian. For as the good shepherd leaves this earth upon death and enters life eternal in heaven, you, too, shall enter heaven through the righteous Christian’s bowel.”

They ran for Howard.

“Beware of all others,” Boris called after them. “The Jews, the Muslims, the false prophets, for you cannot enter paradise through the bowel of the infidel.”

“Oh, my God, are you kidding me?” said Dave, aloft in the rafters.

“No,” exclaimed Ezekiel. “He’s shitting you!”

Howard warned the animals gathered at the pond that the Muslim holiday Ramadan was upon them and that if they wanted to survive to the Jewish High Holidays, they should take heed and prepare for a possible raid coming from the desert in the foreseeable future. “Look how they salivate over our kids and little lambs.” Egyptians perched along the edge of the village that overlooked the Israeli moshav, all the while watching the farm animals graze in the fields below. Howard continued his sermon, preaching that they should stop procreating. It was a sin against nature. As the animal population dwindled, he reasoned, the humans would no longer procure or process them out for meat, and therefore would leave them alone as they faded from the earth, which was created by Satan anyway.

The animals ran for the sanctuary to seek forgiveness and reassurance from Mel.

“Ignore the heretic. He is the heretic of the great heresy,” he assured them. “Disregard everything that comes from his jaws. Follow Boris, your true Messiah.”

“Blessed are the Christians for it is through their kindness that we, too, shall enter into heaven,” Boris continued his sermon next to the compost pile.

The sheep settled in around Boris’s four-toed cloven hooves for comfort.

“Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth.”

“The mink — what the — I don’t want any stinking mink inheriting the earth.”

“No, no, friend, not mink, meek,” said a 6-year-old 250-pound boar. “The meek among us shall inherit the earth.”

“Friend, there are no mink among us.”

Pandemonium broke out in the pigpen as a 26-foot box truck came into view and backed against the loading ramp. On the side of the orange-paneled truck in black letters: “Harvey’s Pulled Pork Palace of Tel Aviv, live Blues music Friday and Sunday nights.” Through all the squeals of protest and chaos, two men prodded the porkers up the loading ramp into the box truck and, in short order, they had the dozen porkers loaded and were gone, never to be seen again. As for the two men, they would return.

Boris stood on two legs and to the faithful, he preached, “My friends, those porkers were rendered eunuchs for the benefit of man, and being that they are swine, you can rest assured that they are intended for the gastronomical pleasure of Christian man. Put yourselves upon the cutting block and you, too, shall be assured a place at God’s table.”

The faithful squealed for Howard.

Howard preached of the forces of good and evil, the dualism between God and Satan, a close game at best, the evils of flesh and blood, the entrapment by the body and of the earth, of light and darkness, the sins of humans in general. “Stop procreating,” he advised. “Humans will stop eating animal flesh as our populations dwindle to nothing.”

They turned to Boris, who said, “Blessed are you when people reproach you, persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven. For that is how they persecuted the swine prophets who came and went before you.”

Julius flew out and alighted on the right shoulder of Bruce. “Who’s winning?”

“Tied, two-all, the bottom of the fifth, with two outs and a goat on second,” Bruce said and shook his head.

“Hmm, the bottom of the fifth,” Julius said. He moved to the fence post afraid that his weight would become too much of a burden for Bruce to carry and wear him down. “I’m afraid this game is too slow for me to stay to the end. What if it went into extra endings! Oh, my goodness, it might never end!”

Bruce closed his eyes against the flies.

* * *

“Duck!” quacked a duck in the barn when a Chinese laborer appeared from nowhere. Chaos ensued as chickens, ducks and geese scrambled in all directions to hide in all corners of the barn. The laborer reached down and grabbed a goose by the neck and disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Two ducks ventured out and met in the middle of the sanctuary. They peered about, surveying the area as chickens, other ducks and the remaining geese came out from hiding.

“Oh, my goodness,” said the duck who had warned everyone. “That was close.” She looked at her friend.

Her friend said, “Don’t say it. Don’t say it.”

“Her goose is cooked.”

“Next time we may not be so lucky. Next time they might crave Peking duck.”

“Well, thanks be to Boris that none of us is from there!”

“Blessed are the Christians, for in their wondrous wisdom feed us,” Boris continued from the compost pile.

“If you call the slop they give us, food, you’re a bigger pig than I thought.”

“Blessed are the Christians who eat us.”

“Eat us? And you bless them for that?”

“You do not enter heaven through the bowels of a Muslim,” Boris explained. “However, because of our association with Jesus, we enter the Kingdom of God through the Christian’s digestive tract. And blessed is the Jewish God, Yahweh, for He granted asylum to the swine as well because the Jew did not like the sound of pigs squealing. It reminds him of the cries of babes. Rabbis, forever after, granted swine were dirty, and stupid, left us alone to frolic, and flock, and multiply.”

“Yes, well, I’m not so sure about that,” said a young boar, and lucky to be a boar. “He’s changed his mind because now some Jews are putting bacon on their plates.”

“They’re not kosher or devout as their Muslim neighbors. Regardless of what Muhammad said, or what he said that they did not hear, Muslims swore off pork.”

* * *

“So, when are you breaking out of this joint?” Julius said.

Bruce said, “When the tide comes in.”

“I didn’t know you could swim.”

“You’ll carry me to safety. Anything would be better than this shit.”