Beta Pi Blog, Vol.2006, No.45 - TALE-O-PIG-ROAST

Beta Pi:

SEARCH FOR GEORGE FORD UPDATE: The inhuman human’s e-mail is georgef@leedscustomdesign.com.

George Ford, truly one of the all-time great TIK-los.

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A TALE-O-PIG-ROAST, by Larry Simons:

. . . In my erstwhile existence as ATO House
Manager, in days-o-yore, I was helping

Alex prepare for Pig Roast. It was a very hot day, the pit had been dug, and Alex said he wanted me and Buck to go with him to pick up the pig.

Being a child-o-the-suburbs - the Ohio State Fair Pig Barn was closest I’d ever been to a live pig - and this being a dead-pig, I was: WHOA, NEW EXPERIENCE!

So, we get into a pick-up truck, and we drive out into what seemed like the country - and we get to this place - the name escapes me - it was like a military compound, surrounded by 8-foot Chain Link Fence with circular-razor-wire on top. But the compound was not occupied by

soldiers - it was more like guys from the movie DELIVERANCE! There was even a barn-looking shack with a front porch, with

weird guys sitting on the porch.

So, we pull up to the gate in the pick-up truck, and I ask Alex: "should we honk the horn?"

Alex says: "Naw, no need to, they’ll see us."

This guy with a slight limp walking. . .so . . . slow. . . moseys over to the gate, and undoes the chain, lifts the latch, and the gate swings open. We drive the pick-up in, and put it in park.

Now, it was mid-day, not a cloud in the sky, hot as ever, we are sweating. The compound is not paved, it is gravel and dust - it hadn’t rained in forever.

I’m thinking, its hot - very hot. Alex walked fairly well then, just not as fast as us 20-year-olds. So, as we walk up this little hill toward the shack, this guy sitting onthe porch just stares at us - doesn’t get up, doesn’t say hello - I swear I thought he was an extra in Deliverance.

We climb up a few steps, onto the porch, and Alex says to the guy: "We’re here to pick up a pig."
The cross-eyed Deliverance guy says:

"In yonder . . ." (As he points to the door).

So far, I’m good with all this - moving according to plan - so I walk toward the door, reach for the door handle and pull the door open, and from behind the door comes lunging . . .

AN EXTREMELY LARGE WOLF-HOUND-DOG!

This was no German shepherd - this was a huge MUTANT-WOLF-FROM-HELL!

The beast was very obviously angry BECAUSE HIS TEETH WERE BARED AND HIS LIPS WERE QUIVERING! I’m feeling this cold chill of RAW FEAR run straight up my spine - freezing me in my tracks - I’m standing there, face-to-face with WEREWOLF, his haunches curled, waiting to spring on me, maybe 2 yards away from me, for what seemed like several minutes. It was like slow motion (but probably just seconds).

Alex is behind me, and he sees I’m really scared, so Alex steps between me and the beast, about the same time cross-eyed Deliverance guy grabs the rope around beast’s neck (no collar, just a rope).

After my heart rate slowed down from HYPER-SPEED, and I was able to actually BREATHE, Alex looked at me, kind of smiling, put his hand on my shoulder, and says: "Mister Larry, you OK?"

Alex knew I’d been genuinely scared. We went in to get the pig, and as far as I was concerned, we couldn’t get it on that pick-up truck fast enough . . .

I can still see it, like it was yesterday. And the pig roast was so awesome, standing around the pit with Alex. That night, after all that great bar-b-que, my little wake-up call with WOLFEN behind me, not to mention all the usual imbibition, I slept like a baby.

Thus, endeth the tale.

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Larry Simons

Beta Pi, '72