Enjoying a quiet night up in my tower, with a nice glass of wine, a pig under my foot, and taking the time to compose a little poem examining the true meaning of this silly little M.A.L.E.S. group.
Runaway pigs will be sentenced to the stockades, where they will be tormented by the succubus without mercy. Then at dawn they will be bashed with rotten vegetables & fruits by all who pass by to witness their shame, until they accept that women have