Squeal, little piggy, squeal!

There’s a new channel on my digital TV service – it’s called Wild.

Now you’d think it would be some hot music channel or maybe a teen party channel; possibly even an outback Alaska channel. Nope. This one is the hunting channel.

I watch it occasionally because it’s hilarious. Unintentionally, of course. There are great moments when a guy will be stalking a deer or something and he’ll turn to camera to explain his great plan.

“Whisper whisper!” he’ll say excitedly. “Whisper whisper whisper whisper! Whisper!”

What’s he saying? Fucked if I know. He’s whispering and there’s wind blowing across the microphone. But I’m pretty sure his intention is to try to sneak up on his prey, line up a shot, and then blow some innocent animal into its afterlife.

The funniest one was at the weekend. I have no idea what show it was, but there was this guy in full army camouflage gear – including camouflage hat and green plastic-looking combat boots.

I mean, this guy was seriously looking the part. He was an M-16 and a grenade away from invading Iran single-handed.

And he was out hunting with his mother. She was about 80 and grey-haired and also wearing full army camouflage with hat and boots to match.

They were – and I’m glad I’m typing this because I cannot say it without falling down laughing – they were out hunting wild piggies with a crossbow. It’s true!

Anyway, I watched with morbid fascination as son set-up the crossbow and aimed at the little piggies; then Mom stepped up and took the shot. Now the crossbow bolt went whizzing across the field and implanted itself right through the gut of Mr Piggy.

Mr Piggy was surprised. He thought: “Hmmm… I best get the fuck out of here!” and started trotting off as fast as his little trotters would carry him.

But it was too late, because he already had a mortal wound. Now the crossbow bolt, incredibly, at the hilt, lit up in a fluorescent red; so what I saw was a little black pig-shape and a red fluorescent blur racing across the screen.

Now Mom (who would be Mum in New Zealand, but it was an American show), turns and smiles to the camera. And son steps up and says something like: “Now, I know there’s some people out there that don’t agree with this. But I cannot think of a better mother-son activity than hunting pigs with a crossbow. I love you, Mom.”

Then they set off after the disappearing red fluorescent blur, and take Mom’s picture with the now dead Mr Piggy. I’m sure in their very non-dysfunctional way they would have cut off the leg and belly roasts and headed on home.

Then there would have been the command: “Here it is, now cook it up, bitch.”

And the response: “Yes, Mom.”