The company which has always distributed my pig Percival’s famous Corn and Beer Stew was threatening to switch to a competitor because of their perception of a lack of new products, but Percival hurried to their headquarters with a multitude of new flavors and packaging ideas, all meant to beguile the executives into investing more money and time into expanding this wonderful brand rather than dropping it.
My pig Percival is not a fan of my brand new pre-shrunk Hummer, but natheless, he never complains while I transport him and 213 of his closest friends to Ham Camp each summer.
I was placed in a deucedly awkward position when my pig Percival presented me with a list of all the horrible things I was doing to the earth by driving my brand new pre-shrunk Hummer around town along with a list of signatures from concerned citizens who wanted me to stop using the dieseling behemoth to drive the thirteen feet from my front door to the mailbox at the end of the driveway.
Due to all of the discussions about the SOPA and PIPA bills in congress, my pig Percival spent a lot of time thinking about the persnickety problem of internet piracy today and came to the conclusion that the only solution to the problem is to build hyper-creative robots which will emotionlessly create all books, music, movies and television shows for free, with all of their plots and themes being about pigs (and occasionally, horses), thereby making piracy a thing of the past and freeing us from the tyranny of money-hungry executives from Hollywood.
Out in the backyard, far beyond the rumbling diesel noises of my brand new, pre-shrunk Hummer, you will find the entrance to my pig Percival’s beautiful, organic garden and perched high above the golden archway that marks the opening to the garden you will find a sculpture of a pig adorned with giant, widespread wings stretched over the entrance like a golden, alate protector of all that is good and edible in the universe.
My pig Percival has written hundreds of sonnets and novellas, all of which are meant to catch the eye of the bonny, young red-headed swine he met at Ham Camp so many years ago.
I thought my pig Percival would be more upset when his publishing deal ended after just thirteen books, but he looked at it as something inevitable- a part of life- and said that the desinence would not be the ending of his wordsmithing, but the beginning of a new chapter in his life.