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Once upon a time, in a big and strange world where anything is possible, there was a fancy and luxurious castle in which lived two royal swine brethren. They dined on the finest cakes and pastries year round and drank the most expensive wines they could find. However, their particular preference in the world of fine delicacies was a rare and juicy steak. Ideally this steak was from cows fed on $300 feed throughout the winter, making them all the more fat and flavorful. The author declines to comment on the ethics behind the concept of pigs eating cows and would rather remind the reader that these are indeed the
problematic
adventures of the two pig brothers.
The names of these elegant and prosperous swine were Dr. Aloysius Stagwell and Lord Cornelle III, or Aloe and Corne to their nearest of kin. Most, indeed all, of the pomp of their names and titles was self-determined as in truth, Aloe was not a doctor of any kind and Corne was ‘lord’ and ‘the third’ of nothing. Whatever their imagined titles, the pigs really were quite wealthy, proven by the fine scarlet robes they wore everyday and the green flamingoes they rode out on their hunting trips. Their favorite game to bring down on these hunts were the miniature giraffes found wandering through the Scorchland and that only because they were the only creature in the land small enough and slow enough for them to catch.
To protect their castle and wealth, the royal pair of pigs had got a gatekeeper to stand guard night and day over the the main entrance. Their gatekeeper was a minuscule man who did his job from a small room above the gate and yet also, from behind bars. Pretty much the gatekeeper was a prisoner. He was fed nothing but cold milk and dry cheese, except on Sundays, and then they gave him some fruit loops for dessert.
This overwhelmingly gracious pair of swine were the double leaders of their country, Pigplace Pillowtopia. The sun shone bright on their everlasting reign (or so they liked to think). Their wealth was notable though it was acquired by who knows what means. Each of their royal nightsuits had six emery buttons apiece and was sewn together with fairy gold thread. Their daily wash routine included oriental perfumes and expensive soaps. They got pedicures twice a week, and haircuts every quarter. They were happy, but Aloe was faster than Corne by a squinch, a fact which would forever keep things a little spicy between the brothers.
What follows is a true account of their many adventures— exciting, dark, strange, sometimes even a bit risqué— but forever and always and above all, problematic.
