The Porkers pig laughs in the face of death! He scoffs at pain, sneers at humiliation!
The spit is his hammock and, lounging cross-ankled, he regards you with cool contempt.
His will is steel and his heart is granite.
No matter what you do to him—no matter the flames, the skewers, the tongs—he will not squeal!
Okay, okay! We get it. The Porkers pig is a tough bastard. He is the G. Gordon Liddy of "food" animals!
What we don't get is where appetite stimulation enters this picture. Is it that we are meant to be happy besting such a mean mother? Even though as soon as he is eaten, he wins and we become his bitch? For that is how he will prove his dominance, by submitting to the very worst that humanity can dish out.