Baloney

BALOPorky Pigtail, in blue overalls, moved to Farmer Franky’s Farm with his suitcase full of mud. After a life in Smog City, he was excited for a new beginning in the countryside and felt at home in his small, cozy sty. Every morning, he would begin his day by snorting the fresh smell of nature and a large bowl of grains and water to satisfy his pot belly.

A few days into his arrival, after Porky settled down, he trotted around the farm to familiarize himself with the neighborhood.

“Hello there, neighbor,” the chickens at the coop clucked for his attention. “When did you move in? Which one is your home?”

Porky hesitated, afraid they would judge him by his porcine looks.“I must lie if I want to make an impression and get accepted,” he oinked to himself. He surveyed the farmstead with his murky-blue eyes. “I live in that house made from brick and mortar,” he lied, pointing to the farmhouse in the distance.

It got him the attention he wanted, even from the cows at the shed and the ewes and mares at the barn. They thought he was a ‘big shot.’ Curious to learn more, they coaxed him to elaborate on his comfortable lifestyle.

Pleased by the interest they showed in him, Porky bluffed, “I have a-a comfy bed, a warm fireplace —yes! And, and —what else? A satellite TV to relax after a hectic day in the fields.”

After drowning himself in his embellished lies of living in luxury and grandeur, Porky began finding the cozy comfort of the sty as messy and cramped. He was disappointed with himself, and it was making him unhappy, for he could lie to others, but he could not lie to himself. Yet, he continued with the farce so he could wallow in their attention.

Porky’s popularity had drawn the jealous eye of Ronny Rooster. Being the first to wake up every morning, he took note of Porky beginning his day from the sty and had caught on to his lies.

“You must know Mayor Doggie Rottweiler, who also lives at the farmhouse with Farmer Franky,” Ronny Rooster interrogated Porky, toying with him.

Porky was stumped, but with everyone watching him, waiting for his answer, he lied. “Ah, yes I, umm— Yes I do! We g-go way back in the day —me and him. I knew his, eh, father too,” he stuttered his way through a sentence.

“Cock-a-doodle-do, you are lying!” Ronny Rooster mischievously grinned. “Doggie Rottweiler grew up in a Canine Adoption Center and never knew his parents.”

“I-I meant the-the caretaker at the center,” Porky lied again to save himself.

Seeing Porky sweating like a pig, Ronny Rooster impishly suggested, “Anyway, you should invite everyone to a party at the farmhouse. I will even bring some food and drinks.”

“Umm, I-I cannot. I have to work late this week,” Porky grunted, digging himself deeper into his web of lies. He excused himself and scampered away, recognizing Ronny Rooster’s intentions.

However, Ronny Rooster did not relent. He brought his friends to the Trough Bar not far from the sty for a round of drinks and lingered there late into the night, intending to catch Porky returning home. Poor Porky had to sleep out on the hay stacks outside the barn.

Ronny Rooster’s vexatious behavior was getting on Porky’s nerves. But he could not stand up for himself since he was in the wrong. No matter how much he tried to avoid Ronny, they would always run into each other. It was adding to his stress and making him miserable. So he locked himself in his sty, unwilling to meet anyone.

Porky’s absence turned Ronny Rooster wearisome, and he decided to expose his fabrications. “Porky Pigtail’s words are total baloney!” he crowed to every animal on the farm. “He lives in a sty!Mayor Doggie Rottweiler can corroborate.”

All the animals were upset and assembled outside the door of Porky’s sty, clucking and mooing and bleating and neighing, demanding an explanation.

Porky learned that day that truth always has a way of getting out. His lies got him brief moments of popularity; however, he ended up losing everyone’s trust. They ignored him, not wanting to talk with him, and began snubbing him whenever he passed them.

One afternoon, when Porky was shopping at the market on the farm, minding his own business, cocky Ronny Rooster sang the tune, “Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

Porky felt humiliated before everyone. In his sadness, he cried his eyes out, but took the opportunity to pour his heart out. “I am Porky Pigtail, and I live in a sty,” he honestly admitted, wiping the tears from his face. “Ronny Rooster’s meanness opened my eyes to the virtue of honesty. I believed nobody would want to be my friend, so I foolishly lied. I meant no harm, but I know now I have hurt your feelings. Please find it in your heart to forgive a swine like me.”

Seeing Porky defending his integrity, Ronny Rooster had to back down. He could no longer call him out, for he was honest and proud.

Porky’s apology eased the awkward tension between him and the others at the farm, but he was branded a liar and had to live with the scar for the rest of his life.

“Oink, Oink,” he cried in regret. “I will never be dishonest ever again.”

— The End —