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Who is Boris?
Boris came out into the barn lot and gathered around him near the compost pile several followers, mostly pigs, porkers without a future, and certain boars who also had little more than nothing to look forward to and who it was suspected might go into the ministry.
“Who do they say I, the Son of Pig, King of Kings, Prince of Peace, am?”
“The Grand Poobah,” said a medium-sized porker sincerely.
“The Grand Poobah of Poobahs,” grunted another.
“Here, here, all hail the all-powerful Grand Poobah.”
“Some call you the son of Howard the Baptist,” one porker spoke up, and added, “while others call you the Baptizer.”
“Half a loaf,” said another. “I know it’s not much, Rabbi, but half a loaf is better than no loaf at all.”
“Here, here, indeed,” oinked the other, more mature
