Well wiggle my ribs and butter my butt, there’s smoke rolling thick through Kewaskum’s gut. Sniff through the village, follow your strut, till your nose finds the smoke at El Pig’s Butt. Rub that rump, smoke that swine, low and slow till the bark looks fine. Pull that pork, pile it high, sauce that sucker till the napkins cry. Ribs get sticky, tacos get packed, burgers get buried and hunger gets whacked. Sweet, smoky, spicy, saucy and hot, bring a big belly because portions don’t trot. Piggy went wee-wee, piggy went whee, this little pig wound up barbecue for me. Snout might shout and the ham might strut, but everybody eventually talks about the butt. So park your porker, pull up and dine, grab something saucy and have a fine time. For smoke, swine, supper and sass in your gut, there’s no ifs, ands… just El Pig’s Butt. Peace. Piece. Peas. Mr. E & Justin Thyme

