Unfortunately, the time has come, again, to visit the hated realm, the land not of suicide food, with all its mythologies and lore of misdirection, but murder food. We travel there periodically to toughen up for our usual slog. (Please have a look at the previous installment of this recurrent feature.)
Jerry's Food Emporium (Saskatoon): We've seen this theme before, the metaphorical made literal. It used to be one of our favorites because it's a source of such withering humor. The last time we saw "pulled pork" expressed literally, as a living pig yanked apart, the presentation was a good bit lighter. It lacked the magisterial viciousness present in Jerry's chalkboard rendering. Stretched taut, belly positioned in the flames, the pig screams, the pain welling from a place beyond tears. Agony, as we know, is the finest tenderizer. (Thanks to Dr. Meagan for the photo and referral.)
The Crazy Rednecks' BBQ: Now these are rednecks. Or, you know, crazed butchers. It's easy to deduce their plan: they will catch up with the pig, hack him apart with eatin' irons (silverware), douse him in barbecue sauce, and dig in. No time for cooking!
Note: Crude though they be, they have nevertheless mastered the very un-redneck use of the apostrophe and the plural possessive! Of course, capitalization still gives them fits.
Warning: This exists.
Road Kill BBQ Sauce: It's funny because the raccoon got hit and run over by a car! And someone's going to eat it! And it's either still alive, face contorted in anguish, or it's dead and the look on its face is its deathmask. Either way, good times.
Reflect for a moment on the mind that finds in animals squashed flat by cars a source of hilarity. Or better yet, don't.
Who Are Those Guys? Competition Cooking Team: From the looks of this image, answering the question is a snap. Who are those guys? A bunch of creeps trying to scare a pig and a chicken to death.