Not that Colin intended to take any action against the peace and dignity of pigship. In the extremely unlikely event that he even came across a hog, he figured, he'd allow it to study devilment in peace. Which was how he justified not mentioning the hog hunt to his parents during their nightly phone conversation. He wasn't really going on a hunt anyway. He was going for a stroll through the woods. With a gun.
John GreenHe awoke to his alarm the morning of the hunt at four thirty. It was the first time since arriving in Gutshot that he'd beaten the rooster to waking. Immediately, he opened his bedroom window, pressed his face up against the screen, and shouted, "COCK-A-DOODLE DOO! HOW DO YOU LIKE IT FROM THE OTHER END, YOU LITTLE FUGGER?
John GreenTell me if I'm mistaken, but isnt't that my girlfriend in the graveyard?"
"You are not mistaken."
"And she's straddling some guy."
"That's correct," said Colin.
Hassan pursed his lips and nodded. "And- I just want to make sure we have our facts straight here- she's naked."
"She certainly is."
....
And then he raced forward about ten paces, cupped his hands over his mouth, and screamed, "I AM BREAKING UP WITH YOU!" Still, though, a goofy grin was on his face.
Hassan Harbish. Sunni Muslim. Not a terrorist."
Lindsey Lee Wells. Methodist. Me, neither.
And sure, it was three on one. But what a one.
John GreenDude," said Hassan softly. "Khanzeer." (Arabic:Pig)
"Matha, al-khanazeer la yatakalamoon araby?" Colin asked. (Arabic: What, pigs don't speak Arabic?"
"That's no pig," answered Hassan in Enlgish. "That's a goddamned monster." The pig stopped its rotting and looked up at them. "I mean. Wilbur is a fugging pig. Babe is a fugging pig. That thing was birthed from the loins of Iblis." (Arabic: Satan) It was clear now the pig could see them. Colin could see the black in its eyes.
"Stop cursing. The feral hog shows a remarkable understanding of human speech, especially profane speech," he mumbled, quoting from the book.
"That's a bunch of bullshit," Hassan said, and then the pig took two lumbering steps towards them, and Hassan said, "Okay. Or not. Fine. No cursing. Listen. Satan Pig. We're cool. We don't want to shoot you. The guns are for show, dude."
"Stand up so he knows we're bigger than he is," Colin said.
"Did you read that in the book?" Hassan asked as he stood.
"No, I read it in a book about grizzly bears."
"We're gonna get gored to death by a feral fugging hog and your best strategy is to pretend it's a grizzly bear?
Hassan said, "I'm a Kuwaiti exchange student; my dad's an oil baron."
Colin shook his head, "Too obvious. I'm a Spaniard. A refugee. My parents were murdered by Basque separatists."
"I don't know if Basque is a thing or a person and neither will they, so no. Okay, I just got to America from Honduras. My name is Miguel. My parents made a fortune in bananas, and you are my bodyguard, because the banana workers' union wants me dead."
Colin shot back, "That's good, but you don't speak Spanish. Okay, I was abducted by Eskimos in the Yukon Terr-no, that's crap. We're cousins from France visiting the United States for the first time. It's out high school graduation trip."
"That's boring, but we're out of time. I'm the English speaker?" asked Hassan. "Yeah, fine."
"Okay, they're coming," said Hassan. "What's your name?"
"Pierre."
"Okay. I'm Salinger, pronounced SalinZHAY."
........
"He has Tourette's?" asked Katrina.
"MERDE!" (Shit) shouted Colin.
"Yes," said Hassan excitedly. "same word both language, like hemorrhoid. That one we learned yesterday because Pierre had the fire in his bottom. He has Toorettes. And the hemorrhoid. But, is good boy.
"Ne dis pas que j'ai des hemorroides! Je n'ai pas d'hemorroide," (Don't say I have hemorrhoids! I don't have hemorrhoids.) Colin shouted, at once trying to continue the game and get Hassan on to a different topic.
Hassan looked at Colin, nodded knowingly, and then told Katrina, "He just said that your face, it is beautiful like the hemorrhoid.
There were maybe eighty chairs set up in the room, and it was two-thirds full but felt one-third empty.
John Greento feel our roots are connected, even if I never see that leaf of grass again.
John GreenLeaving feels too good, once you leave.
John GreenTag: john-green paper-towns page-229
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