by Charles Rempel
Mister Pig's Wild Ride
When the denizens of Cottonwood Forest were asked to describe Mister Pig in one word, and they were asked this a lot for some reason unknown to them, there were many words used, but the one used most often was "piece of crap." They said that most often for two reasons: one, it was funny to give three words when asked for one, and two, it was true. Very, very true.
The reason why they disliked Mister Pig so much, or so they said, was his name. The other creatures in Cottonwood Forest had alliterative names or names that would rhyme, or names that would jingle and jangle in time. Rodney Rabbit and Betty Bear, Merle Squirrel and Jake Snake, to name but a few, hated that Mister Pig never had to endure the rhymes and alliterations. Not only that, but they hated him because his name demands respect. MISTER Pig. "Mister" is usually a title given to someone important, or worthy of an animal's respect. This pig, this Mister Pig, has never done anything but whine and complain since the day he entered the Forest (and why he entered the forest in the first place is still a point of contention between some).
Still, a person's name alone isn't a good reason to hate someone. Mussolini Moose was the nicest animal in the forest, until those drunken hunters shot his wife Mooriah. You can't blame a mammal for gorging his wife's murderer, can you? Well, that's old news, and to be fair, the animals hate Mister Pig's name, all right, but they hate his smugness most of all. And they hate those damn skates of his. A smug pig on skates... just the thought of it gives the animals outside Cottonwood Forest the heebie jeebies. But the forest dwellers had to endure this, day and night.
Mister Pig was oblivious to all this, of course. He just spent the day skating through the forest paths and eating whatever food was lying around (or that other animals may be eating) and whining that the forest was too cold or too hot or too dark or didn't smell enough like pine (which is odd in itself, since all the trees in the forest were pines). Mister Pig never worked, he never helped the other animals with chores... all he did was skate.
One day, the other animals in Cottonwood Forest decided to have a meeting to discuss Mister Pig. They decided that the moderator of this discussion, by unanimous vote, would be Robin Robin, the bird so nice they named her twice. Robin Robin banged the gavel down on the podium stump and started the meeting.
Merle Squirrel raised his paw and began to say his peace. "Mister Pig has been a pain in my tail for months now. As you know, the winter's coming, and I need to gather all the nuts I can. Now, as you all know, I'm a squirrel and skittish by nature. Now imagine a big fat hog skating around the woods. I'm a nervous wreck!"
Merle's story was not unique. Betty Bear mentioned the time Mister Pig skated over her paw. It seems that every animal in the whole forest had had some beef with the porker. So it was decided that something had to be done.
The plan was extreme, to be sure, and probably not the smartest, but the inhabitants of Cottonwood Forest were ready to take care of the Mister Pig situation, permanently.
At the blackest black of the night, the animals crept up on the sleeping pig, and carried him to the tippy-top of the tallest mountain in the middle of the forest, Mount Certaindeath. They placed his skates on his hooves, and precariously balanced him on the very very tippy-top of the mount. He was now at the most remote part of Cottonwood Forest, and thus couldn't annoy the rest of the animals. Their job done, the forest dwellers scurried down the hill and into their beds for a good night's sleep.
When Mister Pig woke up on the tippy-top of Mount Certaindeath, rocking back and forth on his roller skates, he knew he was in a little trouble, and when pigs get into trouble, they begin to whine. So Mister Pig began to whine. "Oh why me? Everyone loves me! Why do bad thing happen to good pigs?" The whining continued at such a fevered pitch that Mister Pig even offended the wind, which pushed the piggie off the tippy-top of the mount.
Mister Pig started skating down the side of the hill
He started to wobble and thought he might spill
A wheel hit a rock and he flew in the air
And he cried and he stammered that this wasn't fair
His skates, not his butt, hit the ground on his landing
He was still on his skates which wasn't a bad thing
But he leaned to his left and veered from the trail
As he built up some speed he started to wail
The pig became nauseous and thought he may hurl
But before he had time he ran over Merle
Oh, that poor tree rodent took a wheel to the chest
And died on the spot, in peace may he rest
Mister Pig didn't slow, but sped up in a hurry
The animals in the forest began to run and to scurry
They didn't want to meet the same fate as poor Merle
The pig could hit them like he did to that squirrel
Robin Robin swooped down and tried to knock him off course
Mister Pig's left skate crushed her, which caused more remorse
Now this porcine skater was building more power
And got up to speeds of ninety miles and hour
Which is too fast for most animals to avoid with great care
It was definitely too fast for the former Betty Bear
Who stood before Mister Pig, her body unmoving
But the pig skated through her, her entrails removing
Mister hit halfway down and he started to shake
And he hit a speed bump (which unfortunately was Jake)
The left skate and right skate split the reptile in thirds
Which made the survivors at a loss for the right words
Mister Pig kept on skating, it wasn't his fault
He ripped through that forest with nary a halt
He smashed down nests and rolled over their owners
He ran over the families and the miserable loners
The friction of the piggie was creating great heat
The trees of the forest caught fire from this feat
The stench of smoke and of death filled the air
Not to mention the stench of burning animal hair
By now Mister Pig had reached the mount bottom
And his speed and his heat made him a hot ham
He had turned the whole forest into a desolate dump
And it came to a quick end when he hit the podium stump
Forty miles away found some of Mister's pork chops
And two counties over his skates hit the bus stops
Cottonwood Forest smoldered for quite a long time
And its residents flattened and buried with lime
The moral of this story is simple to say
If there is a person that annoys in some way
It's best not to trifle with flaws small or big
Lest you be trampled and burned by a high-speeding pig