"Every fat pig goes to driftwood ranch, and not a single one ever leaves." This is the story that every piglet is told, and most of those piglets become plump nonetheless.

Walker didn't consider himself a cruel man, just... Business oriented, and efficient. The fact of the matter was that people the country over, including himself, wanted to consume food such as bacon, ham, sausage, and other pork. He made promises, wrote contracts, and always, always delivered on time. Killing pigs, like it or not, was a profession, and Walker was good at his job.

As all creatures are well aware however, there is always one that gets away, no matter how skilled the captor. This particular pig's name was Humphrey, and he was likely the smartest, though most definitely the roundest boar on the ranch. There had been a few times when Walker had tried to capitalize on his prized pig, and these had been the only times he had ever failed in his efforts of swine catching.

Walker would come up behind with his usual approach of a sudden snatch at the torso, and Humphrey, being a smarter catch than most, would see Walker coming and kick him with his hind legs. The boar would then sprint away, to the greatest extent that one can sprint with their belly nearly touching the floor, out of its personal pen, closing the door on the way out, and leaving Walker temporarily trapped. After this, Walker would find his keys, go back inside, and forget about the hassle for the time being, meanwhile Humphrey would triumphantly swagger to the trough to get his double serving without a lick of consequence.

The other pigs had secretly started to write tabloids about the epic battles going on in the yard, writing about the exceptional exploits of Humphrey the hero, fighting against the wretched wrangler known as wicked Walker. The pigs, for obvious reasons, couldn't be expected to write unbiased accounts of what happened, though the pictures were of excellent detail and appropriate flair.

Despite all of this, there was one day, as there always is, when a shipment was due and and the rancher snapped. Walker wasn't going to miss an order after seven years of perfect service just because of one lousy hog. He walked out to the enclosures, his sleeves rolled up and his eyes bloodshot, a bottle of scotch in his left hand and... And a cleaver in his right hand. "HUMPHREY!!" Yelled the drunken man "COME OUT WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU LOUSY PIG!! DADDY NEEDS A VERY SMART PORKCHOP!!"

What was Humphrey going to do now? Would he escape once again from the clutches of the mad rancher?

Courtesy of The Daily Pigtail

Wicked Walker Strikes Again: How Our Hero Humphrey Escaped with His Life; but Not His Tail.

It is nearly impossible to hide much on this farm (as we all know). Especially tails of that fateful day when Our Hero Humphrey lost his. So, dear farm animals, The Daily Pigtail is here to tell the truth! Among other tabloids on this farm, (we all know who I’m referencing), The Pigtail does not fool around then hide inside straw huts only to be blown away! We are firm in our brick and mortar house of truth! So, close your snouts, muzzles, nostrils, and bills (we must be inclusive on this farm), and listen up!

So, what actually happened on that fateful day? Well, I’ll give it to you straight. At about 4 p.m. on Thursday, which we know is the time Walker usually goes in, and the scotch comes out, the scotch did come out and horror upon horrors, Walker did too. Our trusted sources have informed us that this was not a sudden whim of the Wicked Walker. No, he was tipped off. Tipped off about what, you ask? That Our Hero Humphrey was trying to escape! Now, we all know that not everyone on this farm is partial to Our Hero Humphrey, but our fellow pigs are expected to be devoted! And our sources tell us that the infamous tipper-offer, was… a pig! Dearest readers, our snouts our gaping just as far as yours are. So, after this terrible betrayal, Wicked Walker arrived at Our Hero Humphrey’s private sty, only to find him digging a hole under the fence! We cannot blame dear Humphrey for this offense of course, because not only have we all thought of (or even attempted) escape, but any offense to the Wicked Walker should be applauded! As you all can imagine, Walker’s head was practically imploding, and the scotch was certainly not helping that fact either. With the dreaded cleaver in hand, Walker approached Humphrey. Poor Humphrey did not realize for his ears were too deep in the mud, before it was too late! And the evil, terrible, Wicked Walker knows the pig’s greatest weakness: our beloved tails. He chopped off Our Hero Humphrey’s beloved, curly tail! No one on this farm will be able to forget the pitiful, painful squeals of our brethren losing his precious tail. Fortunately, the scotch had so addled his mind, that when Walker kicked his rump, it sent Humphrey sailing over the fence. It took him over a minute (let us all say a thanks our new friend; scotch) to realize his mistake. Unlike Walker, Humphrey did realize the mistake and went trotting off into the sunset. So, this completely true tail of Our Dear Hero Humphrey ends with another display of his abounding genius and cunning.

As you now know, (if you weren’t already aware) this article is proof of our abounding sources and reliability for truth. With the hope that we all will find freedom like Our Hero Humphrey, till we meet again dear readers.

— Hamantha Swinehilda

Editor of The Daily Pigtail