A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words - "Talk To The Fat Pig !"

This post was inspired by an image-based writing prompt in the Freewriters community, A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

This is the image that inspired the little fable I made up below;

Source

The parade was wonderful ! Guards with red tunics, their golden armour and spear tips glistening in the sun, eagle-tipped banners leading their disciplined ranks. Parasol and fan bearers in clean white linen shielded and comforted gorgeously-robed dignitaries. Cheering crowds lined freshly-swept city streets.

At the centre of it was a gilded chariot with silver ornamentation and crusted with rubies and emeralds. It carried King Basileus IV of Macaronia. He was, as the number suggested, the fourth in his line. Trained from birth to be king, he had an impressive regal bearing.

But trained as he was, he had perhaps also had too much of a luxurious upbringing. He was still quite young, in his mid twenties, ascending the throne when his father sadly passed away at a banquet. Possibly due to a surfeit of lampreys. So poor Basileus perhaps took after his father (also called Basileus, but numbered the Third) in his love of good food and wine, and could charitably be described as somewhat pudgy. Or more uncharitably as thoroughly obese, which is why his chariot was fitted with a comfy chair so he could sit down for much of the journey.

The kingdom of Macaronia had twin cities for it's capital; a citadel, and it's port some three miles away, separated by a stretch of farmland. On either side of the road was a high wooden fence. Notionally defensive, it was really more to keep the farmers' livestock from pooing in the road.

As the parade passed between the palisades, the cheering crowd thinned somewhat. It was made up of a few city and port dwellers who wanted to be seen to make a good impression, and a bunch of the farmers.

The farmers would far rather have been working, but as many as could be found had been rounded up at spear-point by the guards to boost the numbers of the crowd. Most of the crowd at this point could be seen (if you had eyes to notice such things) to be thin and sallow-skinned, even malnourished. The harvest hadn't been good that year.

Suddenly, there was a cry from behind the fence.

"You fat pig ! You're useless ! You're sat on your arse all day eating us out of house and home while the crops fail and we starve. It's the cook pot for you, you hear me !"

The crowd froze in shock. The cheering stopped. The chariot stopped. Basileus's face went crimson with rage and embarrassment. The guards looked shocked and terrified of the king's reaction, in equal measure.

A squad of guards kicked down the fence to find out who had shouted such terrible insults.

There, behind the fence was Farmer Agerus. Probably the most respected man in his community. He had a reputation as a hard but fair man, as well as a past as a valiant warrior in King Basileus II's guard before he retired to the farm he'd earned.

And there, sat in the dust in front of him, was the biggest, fattest pig anyone could imagine. It's face was set in an expression of piggy stubbornness.

There was a murmuring from the farmers in the crowd. They knew the troubles Agerus had had with this pig. They knew how he looked out for them, and helped their families when they had troubles.

Agerus looked around, taking long moments to size up the situation, seemingly not flustered at all by the semi-circle of guards pointing polished but clearly un-used spears at him.

Then with a deadpan expression on his face, he greeted King Basileus IV in a calm voice.

"Why, Your Majesty, fancy seeing you here. I trust you are in the best of health, and are eating well. Don't mind me, I was talking to the fat pig."

Thinking this was a further insult to their sovereign, and without waiting for orders, the guards attacked. Agerus, for all his common garb and manners, was a more experienced warrior, and when the other farmers came to his defence, the guards were beaten off.

And that, my friends, was the start of the rebellion that bought the Basileid line to an end, with it's revolutionary slogan, "Talk to the fat pig !"