The Strapping
Kind
by John Young
Curly munched
on corn cobs in the trough when he overheard
Kinky and Stub talking about his mom.
"Look at
her! Just lying in the muck on such a beautiful
day," said Kinky.
"The
whole clan's the same way. Always has been,
always will be," said Stub.
Sue rolled on
her back, exposing her fat, muddied belly. Curly
trotted over and nudged her ear with his snout.
"Ma, why
do you spend so much time in the mud?" Curly
asked.
"Pigs
have been doin' this as long as we've walked the
earth, son. Keeps our skin and bristles healthy."
"Then why
don't Kinky and Stub?"
"They're
products of genetic alterations, Curly. You
remember what I told you about their tails?"
"Yes,
that only the healthiest pigs have tails like
mine."
"Just
look at Kinky's and Stub's tails, son. Have you
ever seen such sad things?"
"No, ma,"
he said, returning to his trough no less
embarrassed.
A group of
businessmen walked between the holding pens,
patting the backs of pigs. When one reached Curly,
he bent over and ran his hand over his back.
"Ah, nice
hair. This breed makes excellent brushes."
"Did you
hear that, Stub?" said Kinky. "Brushes!"
Kinky and Stub
squealed at the thought.
The
businessmen continued on and stopped at Kinky and
Stub.
"These
two specimens are an example of the strapping
kind I mentioned at lunch," the man
continued. "Products of gene manipulation."
"Did you
hear that, Sue?" Kinky yelled. "Strapping
kinds!"
"Good for
you. Obviously you've kept your hides in perfect
condition," Sue said.
The
businessmen left the pens. Curly returned to his
mom.
"Mom,
what did the men mean by strapping?" he
asked.
Stub overheard
and interjected, "Strong, he meant we're
strong!"
Curly bowed
his head in embarrassment. Sue nibbled Curly on
the ear to come closer.
"Strong,
indeed, son. They'll make the strongest leather
belts in all of Japan," she whispered.
Curly jumped
in the mud next to his mom, frolicking and
giggling at her side.
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