Another one? Another pigwhore pushing the barbecue?
Like the others (her and her, for instance), this hussy has been living rough. Clingy half-shirt, filthy stockings, frayed mini skirt, garish make-up—she's full of class like a heap of scrapple is full of antioxidants.
Yes, we should be over it. We have gone through this so many (many!) times. But the sheer absurdity of it—the sheer absurd, sordid weirdness—still surprises us.
What is the actual message? If a pig must be depicted condoning the consumption of pork—and that certainly does seem to be a necessary condition of suicide food—why must she be such a deliberately trashy specimen? Are they just piling on the transgressive touchstones? Is it intended as a warped justification for the imminent violation?
It's as though we're seeing two parallel versions of "She was asking for it," one granting the illusion of sexual permission, the other giving license to do violence: "What do you expect—she was dangling the meat right in front of my face!" is indistinguishable from "What do you expect—she was shaking her ass right in front of my face!"
This is a world of men and objects. A world, therefore, where anything—everything—can be justified.
(Thanks to Dr. Bea for the referral.)
Addendum: We're guessing that Juicy is kin to the Bubba's Ribs & Q floozy. (Thanks, Dr. Carrie.)