So that's how it is at the Broken R Ranch.
On first glance, something cruel and sinister seems to be happening at the sun-baked BRR. That porcine desperado has lassoed him a prize piece of poultry and he's a-reelin' him in. (Again with this "choking the chicken" trope?) But wait!
It's not what it seems. The chicken, while being strangled harshly enough to pop out feathers, isn't pleading for help. That is not the international "I'm choking!" gesture. No. It's a wave. The chicken is waving to us. And with his left wing, he is welcoming us to the ranch. ("Ta-daaa!") Whether this is perverted or pathological, it's unwholesome. This playful pair, interrupted during a murder-suicide pact—or, is it merely prelude to the most revolting sex ever?—doesn't even have the decency to be embarrassed. The pig's ten gallon hat is pulled down tight enough to shut out the world, and the bug-eyed chicken just wants to get on with it and get it on.
Kill me, cowboy. And don't be gentle.