THOUGHTS FROM THE OVERGROWTH

Roasted Pork with Crab

I watched a sun bleached, pot bellied, round red faced infant from one of the regular run of the mill busy infant factories prevalent throughout the modern world, poke a stick at a brown salty, indifferent and unfortunate shore crab. His pudgy and expectant greedy little stump of a hand dove into his fun tub of clear plastic, half full with the angry, confused, vulnerable, desperate and tragic victims of the ocean. He yanked the luckless sea marvel with the smooth quick action of a hand well practised with many biscuit jar adventures. Muscle memory alone drove this flabby lump into the seething mass of barnacled shell, delicate eye and snapping claw vices. Once separated from its family, friends, lovers or violent competitors, this wondrous alien of an unknown salty submerged life, was carelessly tossed onto the concrete dry dangerous land of fat bloated legs supported by unclean sweaty and stressed feet of the little bastards family. Several of the feet have probably never moved so quick in their strenuous existence before. The poor creature scratched sideways, towards safety from those lumpy feet, sticky child's hands and lightening quick seagull eyes.

“un ballet porcin”

Out came the stick to tease the little monster as it threatened the pig trotter toes of the bloated child's mother. Squeals of horror and laughter straight from the pork slaughter house were hot in the air as I stared on in macabre fascination.

The smell of bacon greeted my nostrils as the hot sun slowly toasted the stretched tight skin of the swine mothers neck and arms. And to my amusement i realised that thin strips of working class cheap bacon was being used as bait for the creatures. In a twist of horror fantasy I imagined that the mothers fat arms were being sliced to intice the crabs.

The crab found its way behind an unused anchor chain, rusting in the salt of the air.

This is when the little porker struck first with his prised primate tool. The crab was flung back into the hell of the trotter forest. Fat feet began their ugly fat waltz of death again and the poor creature raised its mighty claws in pathetic defence of this giant stupid display.

Trotter child once again used his evolved tool capabilities to launch the miracle decapod crustacean skidding across the hot quayside. This time removing two of its legs in the process. Now it was game of survival lost for the creature. Fat boy seized his moment and thrust hard into the shell of the crab. Now he raised his captured prey enemy into the air for all the relieved pork family to see. Appreciation grew on their heads as their button like eyeballs fell onto the tortured crab. Several jumps of relief were witnessed by passes by and all were confident that this family of fat and greed had never moved so quickly, ever before.

It was all began and over within half a minute.

A struggle against annihilation for the toy, dragged from its tub of unnatural collection.

A small pathetic faded memory for the piglet and his kin.

Harmless fun for the swine herd.

No body of the murdered crab was ever found.

No reports of antisocial behaviour were issued.