A couple of days ago there was a mass pig murder outside my apartment. I would like to take this opportunity to give a graphic account of it....
I didn't see the slaughter itself, but I did hear it. Squeal piggy, squeal. I never realised how red pigs blood was, the only time I've ever encountered it before is in black pudding and that is, well...black. It looked like kids paint....some of the students began smearing it on their faces like war paint....or maybe I'm making that up...anyway, I began spectating at the part where they had put the freshly killed pig in a bathtub and were shaving it with big knives. Once they had removed the hair they began removing the trotters, using a big hook thing which effectively worked in the same way as a bottle opener, and, just like bottle tops, the hooves went flying off in all directions...the next part was particularly graphic as they hung up the pig (which i will subsequently refer to as pork in order to depersonalise the experience) by its two front legs, sliced it down the middle and began the arduous task of yanking out its intestines. Yummy. The experience was made more surreal by the fact that there were about 50 children playing ping pong less than 20 metres away. The pork is for the teachers. I'll take the money.