Getting Dumped

A funny thing happened to me the other day.

Before I tell you what, I think it's best to get some facts out of the way. Firstly, yes, I'm a pig. A small animal living on a small farm, destined to end up as bacon, ham, or pork on someone's plate. Can't complain I suppose. At least by being a pig I won't have any eggs or milk taken out of me over the course of my life. Not like the cows and chickens. But then again, we all share the same farmhand who, while nice, has a tendency to run off into the fields singing about wanting more than this provincial life than actually tending to said provincial life. But…well, 'nuff said. Story time.

So there I was, one day in autumn, enjoying my mud pool. It was unseasonably hot this time of year, like summer had refused to pack up and leave. It was nice and cool in there, I was enjoying myself, when I began to notice something. There were people. And tables. And holy moly, food! Food that wasn't for me of course but…well, come to think of it, who was it for? I couldn't imagine my owners inviting them around or anything like that (actually, they rarely got any visitors). And the amount of people and food (oh food, glorious food…) were far beyond a simple get together (food!). So, while staying in my mud pool, I poked my eyes and snout up and took a look. And all thoughts of food (or at least eating it) vanished from my mind.

Yep, I knew it. Suckling pig on one end of the tables. Large cake on the other. Added to that the priest, the band, amount of flowers and wine, I came to realize this was a wedding. A human tradition that I never understood – why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free? Well, there is an answer to that question I suppose, but when I asked Muriel about it (one of the cows), she just said that was a load of bull. But anyway, point is, this was a wedding. One that was being held here, and had been set up so quickly and so quietly I had to ask myself, why? And I would have kept at it had I not seen the human I recognised as Gaston.

Ugh.

Now granted, everything I'd heard about the man was about my owner. I get the feeling that she likes talking (or singing) to us animals because she can't, or won't, talk to her own kind. So in the context of this recollection, I can only say what I'd heard about him – rude, conceited, admittedly handsome, but shallower than the pool of mud I was sitting in, and even more suited for it. Looking at him, as he talked with his dwarf friend (no, not one of those dwarfs, but he might have fit the Dopey description), I reflected that, at least my master might have got the handsome thing down. Not that I'm an expert on human anatomy, but…well, go figure. It was at this point that he brought a tuba down on his dwarf friend's head after striking up the band, and I realized that my master may have been right about him. The music wasn't that bad actually, even if I heard it for only a few seconds. And then, as I watched the brute walk up to my master's door, as I sunk down into the mud lest the wedding guests want a second suckling pig, it all began to fit together.

Secret, silent wedding. No music until after my master was aware of the event. Gaston wanted to propose to my master. Get her out, dazzle her, then…well, actually, I don't know what humans do after weddings. The books my master read when they touched on them always ended at the wedding, never after it. Y'know, the prince carried Snow White off into the sunset, we never found out what they did after the sun went down. But at least the characters in those books weren't brutes knocking on young girls' doors. Inviting themselves in. Closing the door behind them. Shuddering, I sank down further into the mud, to the extent that it even covered my ears. Everything but the tip of my snout so I could breathe. I needed air as my heart pounded you see. This is it, I thought to myself. Life over. I'll be a suckling pig before I know it. Six or seven dogs nipping at me while I'm roasting on the fire before going back to play with six or seven children. I-

Splash!

That was when things got weird. Someone, or something, had entered my mud pool. Even in its depths, I could hear music. And then I could feel something beneath me. Rising. Lifting me up into the air. I could hear the music stop. I could see Gaston's dwarf friend looking at me. Looking at what was carrying me. And looking down, I could see that it wasn't a something, but a someone. Or maybe both – Gaston fit the bill I suppose. I let out an involuntary squeal as I slid down his back into the mud. His clothes ruined, his hair filthy – he didn't seem to like the mud pool as much as I did.

"So," the dwarf asked him. "How'd it go?"

How indeed, I wondered. I couldn't see my master anywhere. Was she getting ready for the wedding or-

"I'll have Belle for my wife," the brute snarled, grabbing the dwarf by the throat and lifting him up. "Make no mistake about that!"

Oh, I see. She rejected him. Spurned him. Probably dumped him into the mud in the first place. Just like how Gaston dumped into the mud with me.

"Hm, touchy," the dwarf said. And I oinked in agreement as I…

Wait a minute. Dumped in the mud? Dumped, as in, rejected? I oinked and oinked at the dwarf, trying to get him to see the irony of it all. A pun. A joke. Best one I'd ever made…and no-one around me to understand it. Bugger.

The wedding was over. A combination of seeing the groom dressed like a…well, pig, and his tirades gave the guests the hint to vacate the area. Even the dwarf did too. And I would have had a good meal if my master hadn't disappeared that evening. Come to think of it, she hasn't come back yet.

Well, hopefully I won't have to wait too long. I could use another story.

A/N

Fun fact - when Gaston enters Belle's house he leaves the door open. But by the time he's got her cornered at the doorway, the door's closed on its own. Apparently Maurice was such a great inventor he created a self-closing door. 0_0