The Great Piglet Escape Training

Dear Brother,

You truly have no idea what your son has been up to. I don’t know whether to thank you for sending him or to charge you for the entertainment he’s provided. Either way, you owe me a drink.

The boy Tae-yang arrived wide-eyed, ready to learn the sacred art of pig farming. You told me, "Make a man out of him, teach him responsibility!" I thought, Fine! Let’s start with the basics. But there was one small issue.

Your son is a vegetarian.

Not just a vegetarian—he’s on a mission. Instead of fattening up the piglets, he’s training them for survival. Every morning, before sunrise, he’s out there leading drills—piglet sprints, obstacle courses, reaction speed tests. If they don’t move fast enough, he claps twice and yells, "Faster! The butcher is coming!"

I swear, these pigs could outrun a dog now. If they keep up this training, one day I’ll wake up and find they’ve escaped to China.

The village thinks it’s hilarious. The butcher? Less amused. He came by last week, and when your son saw him, he whispered to the pigs, "This is it. Remember everything I taught you." And brother, I have never seen a herd of piglets scatter so fast in my life.

I don’t know what to do with him. Should I give up and let him turn this place into North Korea’s first piglet athletics academy? Or do I wait until he realizes that his best trainees might still end up as dinner?

Either way, I’m keeping him here a little longer—just for the laughs.

With tears in my eyes from laughing,
Your very amused brother,
Min-su