It took a while, and Rick's sides hurt from doubling over with laughter, but Zeb eventually successfully tackled the quarterback pig, and loaded it in the pen on the back of his pickup. He was tired and sweating as he padlocked the gate on the back of his truck. He didn't say anything, but Rick smiled. Rick had locked the doors, and the locked padlock meant that Zeb silently agreed with Rick.
Rick climbed down from the stands and applauded.
"I think you and Chad need to practice your act, so it's believable to the judges. If they sense you slipped a trained pig or ringer into the competition, you'll be disqualified, and I guess Chad will end up bacon."
Chad squealed in alarm.
"Don't worry, Chad's a bright boy, I mean pig. He'll play it right. But we probably should practice..."
"Well, come on out to my pa's pig farm. Chad can wallow in the mud, and eat dinner, and get to know the other swine."
Rick unlocked the Field house big door, and Zeb drove the truck out. Rick closed up the field house, and climbed in the truck with Zeb.
Country music blared as they drove off campus, and on to the highway.
Chad listened as best he could over the music, and the crunching of the corncobs in his mouth as he chowed down. Damn, all that running made him hungry. He swallowed. Rick was saying that they would be delivering the pigs to the Fair tomorrow, so Chad and Zeb had to get their act together tonight.
Zeb suggested, "Maybe I can use Chad's big prick as a handhold?"
Rick laughs.