Free Stiffs and Swine by J. B. Stanley Page A

“Let’s go spend some of these!”
    “This is so much fun!” Lindy squealed as they approached the food vendors. “I feel like a kid who’s just gotten birthday money from rich grandparents.”
    Suddenly, a deep voice boomed over a loudspeaker, welcoming all visitors to the town of Hudsonville and the commencement of the sixteenth Hudsonville Hog Fest, sponsored by the Hudsonville Chamber of Commerce and Richter’s RV Sales & Rentals.
    “As soon as the mayor cuts the pink ribbon at the entrance gates,” the male voice pronounced, “Hog Fest will officially be under way! Don’t forget to visit Richter’s RVs for the best motor homes this side of the Appalachians!”
    James and his friends ceased paying attention as the announcer listed locations for maps, ticket sales, and restrooms and then began to warn visitors about which items were prohibited around the festival grounds.
    “I’m getting some hot sausages with onions and peppers before the mob gets in,” Bennett said, pointing at a booth selling Italian sausages and all-beef hot dogs.
    “Me too,” Lindy agreed. “But without the peppers and onions.”
    Gillian twisted a strand of orange hair on her finger. “What am I going to eat at this place? I’m either going to have survive on a diet of greasy fries or starve!”
    “Come on.” James steered her toward a nearby vendor. “It’s not all pig or fried foods. Just smell the aroma of roast corn on the cob.” James held out two tickets to a woman wearing a green apron. “Your corn smells delicious.”
    “Thanks, hon. It’s roasted with enough butter to stop your heart from beatin’.”
    James smiled at her. “Perfect. We’ll take two.”

    The five friends had filled their empty bellies with sausage and corn and shared two elephant ears among themselves. After they dusted confectioners’ and cinnamon sugar from their pants, they decided to check out the area where the barbecue contests would take place.
    The judging area consisted of a large white tent erected on a section of grass that would normally serve as part of the park’s soccer field. The two tent openings were cordoned off using thick pink twine. A sign taped to the twine warned that admittance was granted to contest
officials only and that should contestants enter without permission, they would be instantly disqualified.
    “This barbecue contest is so serious!” Lindy exclaimed. “I had no idea.” She shifted through the schedules in her hand. “Does it say what the prizes are anywhere?”
    James pointed at an orange sheet of paper as he tried to suck fragments of corn from between his back molars. “The festival champion gets the biggest prize. Anyone who wins that title gets five thousand dollars, a new commercial trailer cooker—valued at almost nine thousand—and a contract with Heartland Foods. You heard Jimmy at lunch. That contract’s worth a lot of money.”
    “Who’s Jimmy?” Gillian frowned, poking at a piece of corn caught in her lower teeth with her fingernail. “Did you have lunch with a barbecue aficionado?”
    “You could say that.” Bennett sniffed. “Mostly we watched as he inhaled enough food for three people.”
    “That’s because half of it ended up on his shirt, the tablecloth, and his beard,” Lindy scoffed.
    “He’s one of the contestants,” James explained to Gillian. “He has, ah, a rather large personality. Calls himself The Pitmaster.”
    “According to this schedule, everyone competes in teams.” Lindy studied the orange paper. “Jimmy’s team is called the Pitmasters, but there are five other teams competing.” She grinned. “You guys are gonna love these names. The other teams are the the Thigh and Mighties, an all-female team called Adam’s Ribbers, the Marrow Men, the Tenderizers, and the Finger Lickers. Each team has a leader, or spokesperson, and theirs is the only name listed in the program. They’re the ones who’ll be turning in their team’s food to the