"Fine!" I said, my blood thumping in my ears. "Mouth it then, Jordy. Stand by the camera so I can watch you."

Jordan shoved Brenda/Carole's hand away and glared at me. "How the hell is that going to help?"

"Just do it!"

Rolling his eyes, he mouthed,'in the arms of the angel.'

"Hello," I said, forcing a smile. "I'm music and television's Phillip Firecracker, and I'm here today with a plea. Every year, the factory farming industry tortures millions of lovely little creatures. Creatures with hearts that beat just like yours and mine. Animals that wouldn't dare put you in the"—I winked at the camera—"Friendzone.Tallulah, Texas, is home to this nation's largest muscadine vineyard. It's also home to a slaughterhouse that would putThe Texas Chainsaw Massacreto shame."

Rivers came to a halt when he reached the camera crew and saw us sitting on our wooden stools. His jaw went slack, and then his face turned a shade so red, he could have passed for a fire hydrant.

'Oh, my God,'he mouthed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I recently stumbled upon a video that shattered my heart. Our sources can neither confirm nor deny that it happened at this particular slaughterhouse, but it's troubling, nonetheless. I've always been partial to a nice slice of bacon. After witnessing the atrocities in that clip, I'm afraid I can no longer remain silentabout these deliverers of death and devastation." I lifted my hand in a fist of solidarity. "Down with factory farming." I wiped a nonexistent tear from my eye before turning and smiling at the kid at my side, tussling his hair. "This is Beau Rivera. And this"—I brushed a thumb against the pig's forehead, my heart swelling as he oinked out his approval—"is Fudge."

Beau leaned down and kissed his snout. "I've had Fudge since he was a baby. I mean, he's still a baby, but not as much of a baby as when I got him. He's a gentle little guy. Never did nothing to no one, just like his brothers and sisters. The man that owned him don't seem to care about Fudge's family, though. He's gonna cut them up and cook them, but they ain't food, they're my friends. They're my family."

"Please,won't you be an angel…" I stopped myself, because that line no longer made sense. "I'm asking you to take a stand. To say 'no more!' No more broken-hearted children mourning their best friend as they stare down at the Thanksgiving dinner. Enough is enough. What we're asking for is space from an angel. An angel like you."

"Fuck the patriarchy," Eulah Smith, owner and proprietor of Yoga By Eulah, said from the sidelines.

I blinked slowly at the camera, taking in a deep breath. "I'm not sure how that's relevant, Eulah, but thank you for your passion."

"We want meat that can't be beat!" Albert-slash-Leopold said.

"That's actually counter-productive to our entire message, but thanks, Leopold."

"It's Albert."

"It'sabout to die a slow death ifitdoesn't shutitsmouth," I hissed through a gritted smile. "Please," I said again, into the camera. "Won't you be an angel—"

"It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve," Danvers the diabolical dick tease shouted.

"You literally offered me a hand job at the airport. Shut up."

"We're still rolling," Brenda/Carole said, glaring at me like she was two seconds away from punching me directly in the eye.

"Would someone mind telling me what the heck is going on here?" Rivers finally asked, stepping into the shot.

"Please," I shouted frantically. "Won't you be an angel? These beautiful babes need a home."

"Why aren't you in school?" Rivers asked.

"I'm taking a stand, Daddy," Beau said, beaming with pride. "Like you taught me."

"Even a simple backyard would suffice," I shouted into the camera. "Or maybe a garage. For God's sake, it's only thirty pigs. It's not like I'm asking for a goddamn kidney."

Rivers knelt in front of his son, resting his hand on the kid's knee. "Buddy, you can't just skip school to protest. I've been working on this all morning. I told you I'd try to work something out."

"And I told you I'm not letting them kill Fudge's family. They didn't do nothing wrong. And stop looking at Phillip like you're mad at him. He didn't do nothing wrong, neither. He's only trying to help."

"I'm not mad at him, buddy," he said, though the look he shot me gave no credence to that claim. "But this isn't the way to handle things. We've got the fair opening in an hour. We can't have this going on while people are trying—"

"No!" he shouted. "This is a protest. Protests aren't supposed to be convenience stores."

"Huh?"

"Ah, for fuck's sake," Brenda/Carole grumbled. "Cut!"