There was nothing peculiar about this farm. The pigs were genetically bred to be hungry - always. Insatiable, ravenous - “as greedy as a pig”. That was the way Leonard bred his pigs and that was the way he liked it. He’d run the farm for 25 years this way and he knew the fatter the pig, the bigger the yield of bacon. It’s how all pig farms are run.
“Whatever happens. Do not let the pigs get hungry.” Leonard had told Raymond on his first day. The words stuck with Raymond and anytime he fed them, he knew this was one of the days’ most important tasks.
Lionel was Raymond’s favourite pig. Lionel was the biggest, eldest and smartest. Whenever Raymond threw down the slop; Lionel was the one forcing his way through to the front of all the other pigs and greedily eat everything.
Quite a character this pig is - Raymond would think.
Raymond’s weakness was whiskey and in the six months working at Leonard’s farm, he wasn’t sober a damn day. Not that he gave a shit, he was there to work the land, have fun and make sure the pigs don’t get hungry.
It wasn’t until Eric came over with some moonshine did things go sour…
Raymond was used to whiskey, Raymond could handle whiskey but moonshine just wasn’t a friend to Raymond.
“Come on. Just one won’t hurt.” Eric said.
Well it wasn’t just one was it. It never is just one…
Hours/days (maybe even a week!) later waking up in a face-full of vomit - Raymond committed the ultimate sin.
He let the pigs get hungry.
Pulling back the barn door - the first thing Raymond could smell was that metallic scent. Blood everywhere. Pig blood. The pigs had turned cannibalistic in their hunger. Huge open, festering wounds littered amongst the dead carcasses. They’d eaten through the skin of their own kind. And there, amongst the rib cages and pork-flesh was half a human hand, that green emerald ring he knew so well. It was Leonard’s hand - the flesh eaten to the core of the bone.
Do not let the pigs get hungry. The words rang true.
“Eric you son-of-a-bitch!!” Raymond screamed.
But Eric was gone. You see, Eric owned the neighbouring pig-farm. Eric knew what happened when the pigs went hungry. Eric hid behind a facade of being drinking-buddies but Eric never touched a drop. Raymond cursed himself for being so fucking weak.
And as he trawled through the wreckage of dead pig after dead pig, climbing over the odd piece of skin probably belonging to Leonard - he saw the slop bucket - dry as a bone.
Behind him he heard a harsh breath of air - snorting!
And there he was - the alpha pig - KINGLionel in all his glory, looming large. There was a greedy rocket in Lionel’s eyes. A longing. A hunger. A ravenous, uncontrollable appetite.
And Raymond was next… This was how the pigs were bred.
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