"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?