You are looking into the face of madness. Having risen from a hell of dead and dismembered pigs, his spirit wracked by insanity, the infernal pig drives the demon bull onward. Onward, through the badlands of the living! Onward, through nightmare! Onward, through the corruption of disease and sin! Through defilement, pain, and misery!
The pig is so determined to create Hell on Earth—hell-bent, one might say—that he even coaxes fire from the nostrils of his beast of burden. His wagon is either A) made of flame, or B) still alight with the Underworld's foul fire. Either way, we're dealing with a hellish perversion.
Our "favorite" insane touch: the skillets are lashed down to the sides of the wagon with ropes fashioned from sausage links.
As gruesome as this hell wagon is, we do take comfort in its lack of ambiguity. The pig is consumed with an unspeakable urge to kill and be killed. That kind of clarity brings with it a certain serenity. There is no need to interpret the image, to arrive at a correct reading. No, this is plain old, life-hating depravity. Open and shut.