The pig stays
in the bathtub and he must be there when he comes home.
All right. The pig stays in the bathtub, your honor. Anton wants it.
Tomorrow the pig will be killed and that'll be an end for the pig.
Anton comes home and he goes in the bathroom and he sits and looks at the
pig and complains the mud is dried up and why don't somebody take care of
his pig. His damn pig. He brings up more dirt and makes more mud. And the
pig tries to climb out and throws mud all over the bathroom.
That's one day. And then there's another day. And finally a third day.
Will Anton let anybody kill his pig? Aha! He'll break somebody's neck if
he does. But, your honor, Mrs. Popapovitch killed the pig. A terrible
thing, isn't it, to kill a pig that keeps squealing in the bathtub and
splashing mud all day?
But what does Anton do when he comes home and finds his pig killed? My
God! He hits her, your honor. He hits her on the head. His own wife whom
he loves and lives with for ten years. He throws her down and hollers,
"You killed my little pig! You good for nothing. I'll show you."
What a disgrace for the neighbors! Lucky there are no children, your
honor. Married ten years but no children. And it's lucky now.
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