Topic: Along the Road: Arnold the Pig

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    Avatar photoAmazing Aardvark

    Along the Road: Arnold the Pig

    I have a treat for you guys today. So before I start, you should know that this story is completely, absolutely, 100% true. No joke. I remembered it last night. It’s a story from my father’s childhood. My grandparents on my father’s side had 5 children: 2 boys and 3 girls, and they all lived on a farm. I’ll have to adapt it to fit into the Battle Brothers’ narrative, and omit their names. Aside from that, this story is completely true and will be told from my father’s perspective. Fredrick the Farmer (who is a placeholder character for any Battle Brother with the farmhand background) will represent my father in this story. Enjoy!

    Sitting around the fire, you and your men are drinking, joking, sharing stories, and, more than anything, enjoying a rare moment of peace in the mercenary life. Fredrick the Farmer pipes up and starts telling a story.

    “Have I ever told you boys the tale of the happy life and untimely death of Arnold the pig?”

    No, how does it go? (Click to continue)
    Oh, I’ve heard that old story a thousand times. (Click to get back on the road)

    “Well then sit back, relax, and enjoy the true and tragic story of the progeny’s prized pork.
    When I was a wee lad, me and my siblings had all sorts of pets; cats, dogs, rabbits, chickens, and all different kinds of farm animals. You see, we lived on a farm. One night father came home with a little present in his hands. He wouldn’t show us what it was at first. He told us that our neighbor, Homer Hines, had a sow that gave birth to a litter of little, pink piglets. They were all fine and healthy but for one, the runt. ‘Well kids,’ pa said, ‘I don’t expect him to live for very much longer, but Homer said I could bring him here and show him to you.’ Then he opened his arms to reveal the smallest baby pig that ever lived.”

    What happened to him? (Click to continue)

    “Well, the girls took him and did everything they could to keep him alive. They held him in their arms and kept him nice and toasty. They had a little rag that they soaked in warm, fresh goat’s milk for him to suck on. You know, any kind of baby animal can live off goat’s milk, even baby children. They kept caring for him and feeding him, and he kept right on living. He got big enough that he could start eating slop, so mother turned him out of the house. She said, ‘Ain’t no pigs gonna live in my castle.’ We was scared at first. I feared the dogs would eat him, but the strangest thing happened. He and the dogs took right up. He ate with the dogs, he slept with the dogs, and he ran with the dogs. Heh! That darned pig probably thought he WAS a dog!”

    Har! (Click to continue)

    “Well, by and by, one of the girls named him Arnold. He’d follow us to the fields and lay around waiting for us to finish our work so’s that he could play with us. The neighbors said it was the oddest thing they ever witnessed. Well, Arnold kept growing… and growing. He got bigger and bigger, and you could never have told he was a runt. One day… Arnold disappeared. At first, we didn’t think nothin’ of it. He’d ran off with the dogs some times before, but he’d always come back. Well, one day turned into another day, which turned into a week, and Arnold hadn’t come back yet. The girls were getting worried, so my brother and I went out looking for him, or what was left of him. We didn’t find anything, though.”

    How sad. (Click to continue)

    “A few weeks later, we kids woke up to a wonderful Sunday breakfast: eggs, bacon, and biscuits. I, hungry as I was, stuffed my face. The same day for dinner we had a picnic out in the woods. There was potato salad and ham’n’cheese sandwiches. For supper that night, we had the best meal yet. Spread out over the table was all manner of delectable goodies. We had mashed potatoes with gravy and green beans, just to name a couple. But the main event that night, the entrée that demanded an encore, was a hot, smoking stack of fried pork chops. I won’t tell you how many I ate, but it weren’t a few. Just as we were finishing supper, Father stood up from the table, looked over all us children, and said… ‘Well, kids, how’s Arnold taste?’”

    Egads! (Click to continue)

    “When the question finally sank in, my sisters started tearing up. The youngest girl, bless her heart, ran crying to her bed. But, to be perfectly honest, I think I really knew all along that we had been eating Arnold. I felt guilty at first, but the more I ate, the less guilty I felt.” Fredrick paused and thought for a long moment. “I propose a toast… To Arnold! There never lived a pig that tasted half so good!”

    Ha! To Arnold!!! (click to end the story)

    Avatar photoMarsh The Muddy

    Really cool story…
    I’ve been reading your stories ever since you started and I have to say… You, my good sir, are a man with a novelist’s talent and a child’s soul…
    I really hope that most (if not all) of your stories will be included in the game…

    Also, if I could ask (and I’m not trying to be rude), but are you a Canadian? You just seem so polite and nice… Anyway, getting a little emotional here!

    You’re amazing, dude! You really are! Keep it up!

    Avatar photoAmazing Aardvark

    Eh? Canaaadian? Eh?

    Haha, thank you very much for the considerate compliment. And no, in all honesty, I’m just a country boy from Missouri. Kind of like Mark Twain, actually. Not that I’m making any comparison between him and myself. I simply enjoy reading his short stories, and now that I know a little bit about composition, I enjoy writing them as well.

    Avatar photoMarsh The Muddy

    I just said you’re Canadian because you seem so polite… And I really ment what I said… Keep doing what you’re doing!
    And also… I wouldn’t say you’re far from being as good as Mark Twain!

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