Pigs In Paradise. Roger Maxson

my goodness,” said the duck who had warned everyone. “That was close.” She looked at her friend.

      Her friend said, “Don’t say it. Don’t say it.”

      “Her goose is cooked.”

      “Next time we may not be so lucky. Next time they might crave Peking duck.”

      “Well, thanks be to Boris that none of us is from there!”

      “Blessed are the Christians, for in their wondrous wisdom feed us,” Boris continued from the compost pile.

      “If you call the slop they give us, food, you’re a bigger pig than I thought.”

      “Blessed are the Christians who eat us.”

      “Eat us? And you bless them for that?”

      “You do not enter heaven through the bowels of a Muslim,” Boris explained. “However, because of our association with Jesus, we enter the Kingdom of God through the Christian’s digestive tract. And blessed is the Jewish God, Yahweh, for He granted asylum to the swine as well because the Jew did not like the sound of pigs squealing. It reminds him of the cries of babes. Rabbis, forever after, granted swine were dirty, and stupid, left us alone to frolic, and flock, and multiply.”

      “Yes, well, I’m not so sure about that,” said a young boar, and lucky to be a boar. “He’s changed his mind because now some Jews are putting bacon on their plates.”

      “They’re not kosher or devout as their Muslim neighbors. Regardless of what Muhammad said, or what he said that they did not hear, Muslims swore off pork.”

      * * *

      “So, when are you breaking out of this joint?” Julius said.

      Bruce said, “When the tide comes in.”

      “I didn’t know you could swim.”

      “You’ll carry me to safety. Anything would be better than this shit.”

      “I’m not sure, but it might depend on which way the wind blows. Don’t look now, but rumor has it, cell block number 9 is making a break for it later tonight. They have a tunnel dug, but I can’t bear to tell them it comes out under the Gaza Strip and not the Kerem Shalom mall.” Julius covered his beak with a wing as he turned his head to feign a laugh.

      “Is the mule leading the way?”

      “Are you kidding? He’s pinning his hopes on the back of the Bore of Berkshire, just as the Boar has the tail pinned on the donkey.”

      “Tell us, O Lord, of Jesus and the Demon Swine.”

      “Oh, yes, please do, Lord,” cried the piglets. “Tell us the story of how the demons were cast into swine.” And Boris did not disappoint. He told the story of how Jesus cast out demons into a herd of swine, but with a different outcome, which was joyous and beneficial, particularly to the young pigs among the farm animals.

      “When Jesus came into the country, he was greeted by two people possessed by demons. They met him there on the road, coming out of tombs, and so exceedingly fierce, they would not allow anyone to pass that way, not even Jesus. ‘Behold,’ they cried out. ‘What do you know, it’s Jesus. What do we have to do with you, Jesus, Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before the time?’ Jesus replied, ’No, not at all. Just passing through on my way to Galilee, friends, carry on.’ But the demons begged him, ‘If you cast us out, dear Lord, permit us to go away into that herd of pigs over there feeding as they are far away from us.’ And the Lord said to the demons, ’Go!’ They came out, and went into the herd of pigs, and behold it was said, and the whole herd of pigs rushed down the cliffs into the sea, and died against the rocks.”

      “Oh, how awful,” the piglets cried.

      Boris assured them by saying, “My family, my herd, do not let your hearts be troubled. This is not the end of the story. The Lord of Man, our God, did cast out the demons into the herd of swine, but they did not rush down to the sea to die. Instead, they rushed down to the sea to frolic in the sand, the sun, and the surf. They did not die against the rocks, but frolicked in the sea spray, for the demons were merely souls that entered into the pigs, and they were playful, full of mirth and laughter.”

      Cheers went up from the gathered souls.

      “And those who fed them fled, and went away into the city, and told everything, including what happened to those who were possessed with demons. And the pigs were left alone to their own devices. Thus, therefore, and so forth, today we are plentiful.”

      The barnyard pigs and their piglets squealed with joy.

      “Oh, tell us, Rabbi, tell us the rest of the story of the demon swineherd.”

      “Later, after casting out the demons into the swineherd, Jesus, to show he was a good fellow, went down to the sea among them, and as he walked on water, blessed the pigs for they were lowly, and absolved them of their sins. When the prophet Mohammed appeared on the ridge, he witnessed the herd of pigs playing in the sand and shit, wadding in the waves, making sand sties and mud pies, squealing and pealing with laughter. He said unto his people, “Going forth from this day onward, from the wiggly tail to the snout, this is what is to be left out.” But his voice was drowned by the rush of the sea and not fully understood. Therefore, what his will be done, went unknown. Not sure what was and what wasn’t kosher to speak, Muslims, devout as they are, and not knowing fully from the wiggly tail to the snout what was to be left out, swore off everything between. This is why they now sit perched on the hill as they do, salivating over our brothers and sisters, the sheep and goats among us, and their young lambs and kids, for soon upon us will be Ramadan. Although Jesus is known as a friend to the lamb, it is widely seen that he was a greater friend to the pig. Thus, it is because of the love of Jesus shown to the pig that the Prophet Muhammad is our friend. Except for those poor souls along the Thames or the Rhine or the Danube or along the banks of the mighty Mississippi or the shores of Lake Pontchartrain, pigs are grateful to Jesus and Muhammad.”

      “He’s not our friend,” said Billy Kidd, the Boer goat.

      “Yes, Muhammad is a friend to the pig even though he doesn’t show it, just as Jesus is a friend to the lamb, and as the good shepherd that none of us want, he shows it. This, as we know, is not so lucky for our brothers and sisters, the sheep and goats. Having Jesus as your friend does not ward off the evils of cutting flesh from bone.”

      “In other words,” Howard said from the pond, “Jesus does not protect the lamb from flesh-eating man, and as for the pigs, anything from the tail to the nose is fair game. Men even use lambskin to cover the shank, so they can fornicate and not procreate.”

      The sheep were torn and confused. They ran from one sermon to the other, from Howard to Boris, and back again until Mel stated that the heretic preached exclusion. Inclusive was only meant for pigs, as in “Mohammed is our friend.” The sheep flocked to Boris, their Savior.

      “Blessed are the wretched. Blessed are the poor, for they shall enter the animal kingdom of heaven,” Boris preached. “Although the way is narrow into the valley of clover on the other side of paradise, believe in this, also believe in me, and confess to your confessor, the holy prelate Mel, and you shall receive salvation and live forever in the animal kingdom of God, where no animal feeds off another. And remember, Yahweh, for he, too, is our friend. When hearing the squealing of the swine, he shrieked and declared them vulgar and unclean. Whereupon, the tribes of Israel soon thereafter exited Egypt by way of the Red Sea. Yes, it is Egypt where we are from, and it is Egypt, our paradise on earth, where we shall return.”

      Boris said, “I light the way to paradise on earth, and only through me to heaven beyond. Follow me and you shall receive, for it is through me that you surely shall enter the gates of paradise, and though the way is wide, the path is narrow, and through these narrows are the desert mountains, and the valley of life on earth. It is our resting place on our journey into the animal kingdom of heaven.” This day that Boris sermonized to all the animals would one day be known as the sermon on the compost pile, where Boris