Treehouse Pig Militia

A dozen or so small pigs lived in a tree-house in West Beauforte, Texas. They all had rifles and cowboy hats and little vests like Porky Pig. They weren’t very nice though and everyone who ventured into that back yard was shot at, many actually killed on the spot. The little pigs would take body parts from their victims and hang them from clothesline that ran through the branches of the tree.

An old woman lived in the big front house and she often played Scrabble with a guy named Farley. One evening Farley was losing pretty bad and he decided to light up a cigarette on the back porch. The old woman was in the kitchen fixing them coffee or she would have told him not to go back there. What he saw silhouetted in the twilight was the clothesline strung with five or six human hands. His cigarette almost fell out of his mouth.

He walked slowly out across the back lawn and looked up at the clotheslines and the darkened tree-house. He heard the snorting, scuffling and wheezing of the little pigs moving around up there. “Get away from there!” the old woman called from the house. “They’ll kill you!” Farley spun around but was shot in the leg. He went down. Turned out though that Farley was a crazy ex-marine and always wore a knife in each boot. He threw one knife and took out the first pig, who fell squealing down to the blood-stained lawn. Farley limped towards the tree and climbed the nailed-on plank steps with the second knife at the ready. He got the next little pig before he could shoot and the pig tumbled down, squealing, knife in his heart. When he poked his head up into their little house though, the rest of them opened fire from the shadows. Farley was hit in the shoulder and his left ear was blown clean off. He fell back, banging his head on the way down.  He landed unconscious on one of the dead pigs, bleeding profusely.

Several pigs then came down to remove the knives out of their pig buddies. The loss of the two pig friends was a revelation for the lead pig. “All this bad Karma is coming back to us,” he pronounced. He had the pigs take down the clotheslines of severed body parts. Then, instead of the usual butchering, he had the others drag Farley’s body up and leave it on the back porch for the old lady to find.

As they ceremoniously buried their fallen pig friends, he pronounced, “Let’s take it easy from now on. No more random shooting. Come on guys. It just ain’t worth it.” The other pigs nodded in agreement and the two dead pig bodies were lowered into the ground and covered solemnly with dirt.

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