Perspiring Pig Part 2

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We're going to let London Sea out. We're not going to let her GO, but some new air and firm work in the yard never hurt anyone. Live shows are about doing something unexpected, and when we commenced broadcasting this one, even we weren't thinking about taking it outdoors. But then we thought to ourselves, it's such a super-cute day out, and wouldn't it be super-cute if someone ambling by the Farm got a free demonstrate out of it? The next thing we know London is on her knees, fettered and shackled, digging through the dirt with her naked hands. That's what pigs do. They wallow in the mud. They're filthy creatures. London is a pig. We bury her up to her mammories in the muck and mire, then start providing her the biz end of the crop some more. The tears make streaks in the coated on grime on her face. She's doing everything she can to hold back the cries and the screams. And the indignity makes it all so much stiffer to handle. There she is, dirty, cold, suffering, and all of our members want to hear her call herself a muddy pig. And she knows she has to. She knows it's true. She's nothing now. Just a play thing for us.