“I ain’t gonna kiss no pig on the lips.” Thomas straightened to his full six feet and glared down at his wife.
“But we really need the money,” Bobbie Jo said.
“Then you kiss it.”
“That wouldn’t be very ladylike.” Bobbie Jo squinted at the platform where the pig, wearing a pink tutu and dark glasses, waited. She crinkled her nose and continued. “Besides, it’s a girl pig.”
Bobbie Jo grabbed his arm when he started to stomp away and pressed her body against his.
“Pleeease? We really, really–”
“I know. We need the money.” Thomas stared at the pig and felt his resolve melt until it was as soft as his wife’s breast. Without another word, he plodded toward the stage, ignoring the laughs and hoots from the crowd, and climbed the three steps to the top of the platform.
He followed the carnival barker’s instructions and got on all fours. The animal raised its snout, like it knew what was about to happen.
Thomas touched his lips to the pig’s and held the kiss three seconds longer than the required five.
“We have a winner!” the barker announced and handed Thomas five one hundred dollar bills.
Thomas bounded off the stage without acknowledging the roar of the crowd and headed straight to Bobbie Jo.
“Here’s your money,” he said, then turned and trod off.
“Where’re you goin’?”
Bobbie Jo stood with her feet apart and her hands on her hips. “You ain’t leavin me cause I made you kiss a pig, are you?”
“Nope,” Thomas said over his shoulder. “I’m leavin you cause the pig’s a better kisser.”
Jim Harrington is a retired librarian embarking on a new journey. His stories have appeared in Apollo’s Lyre, Baker’s Dozen Review, Bent Pin Quarterly, Defenstration, Long Story Short, Litbits, MicroHorror, and others. You can read more of his stories at www.jimharringtononline.net.