bobby mcbain eats bacon for breakfast, pork chops for lunch & chews his chitlins as he struts across the sty & shits in the trough; other pigs call him judas & think that farmer lazarus ought to make a meal of the cannibalistic bastard: they hate him almost as much as they hate themselves. what they don’t know is how bobby saved lazarus mcbain that larksome night 3 years ago—soon after the barren mrs mcbain took her own life—as the farmer lay alone in his bed; how there came a knock at the door & he opened it to find the piglet in swaddling clothes & the note:  please love & cherish him as your own & how the farmer wept & the piglet wept as he christened him w/ bacon grease & mrs mcbain wept, her tears coming down in the rain, gentle q-tips in the gutter; & jesus wept

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