Mar 26, 2011

Sir Reginald Farquar's Pig Burning Night

      Edit: I put the original post (text with images) after the page break to make life easier :) Disclaimer: the pigs aren't real pigs - they are just pictures of pigs. Sir Reginald isn't a real knight either. He is merely a retired street cleaner who spends a lotof his time alone in the shed on his aunty's farm.
      The fairy, however is real.  






Hello? Well thanks for looking at the pics. If you didn't read about Sir Reginal Farquar (DSOTM, ABD, MNFLQR, Ret:) then I don't blame you - in fact you aren't the only one.
But good news! Last week I managed to visit 50 percent of the blogs that I wanted to visit. So this week I will catch up on the other fifty percent, but by the then I will be 75 percent behind, so by next Tuesday I will be right back where I started from.... so if you see me hovering outside the door, that's where I have been.....


Warning: Incoherent ramblings ahead.

     Every Saturday night in the balmy summer of '86, Sir Reginald Farquar had, what he called, Pig Burning Nights.
    Usually these 'Pig Burning Nights' were a damn lot of fun - what with the squealing and the oinking and the squeaking of the poor pigs.
    But one Saturday night in the middle of May, just before St Margaret's day, Sir Reginald tried something different.
    And that's where it all went wrong.
    Instead of going down to the river at the back of his private mansion, he decided to do his pig burning in public. And where better than on the village green? he asked himself. Maybe he'd finally grab some publicity.
    And so, with this in mind, he'd ordered Frederico the manservant to take the toys down early and stake out the lawn next to the Boer war memorial. The toys, scattered higgledy piggledy around the green, consisted of thirteen bears, one and a half complete skeletons, two train sets, three marionettes and fifty-two life sized, hand painted, wooden toy soldiers.

    Odd as it may seem, these toys were a necessity for Sir Reginald's Pig Burning Nights. For the toys were the only audience - on account of the villagers hiding in their hovels when Sir Reginald was on the loose.
    Yet the toy audience had disadvantages. It was, for example, understandably taciturn - to say the least.
    To add more flavour, Sir Reginald, during the exciting parts of the pig burning, often made 'oohing and aaaghing' noises - and pretended the toys had made them.
    In fact he fancied himself (quite rightly) as a bit of an amateur ventriloquist - especially when the crackling began to spit.
   He hadn't always used toys of course. In fact he'd only been using toys since the previous year when, one lonely rainy Saturday night (his lover Beautrice had left in a huff the week before), he'd realised that Pig Burning would be twice as much fun with an audience. What, he reasoned, was the use of getting the little pink pigs to squeal, to oink and to roast - if you were the only one of God's creatures to enjoy the spectacle?
    Hence the toys.

    But tonight wasn't going 'as planned.'
    For a start, Friday night's rain had dampened the fire faggots. The flames were slow to take and needed three bottles of methylated spirits, one of keroscene and a dash of cheap tequila to get them going.
    Consequently, it wasn't till ten oclock that the fire crackled and sparkled and flamed enough to throw the first two pigs into the barrel.
   Though it was late Sir Reginald had no mercy. In the pigs went, oinking loudly, flipping their flabby arms, flapping their floppy tails .
    Delighted, Sir Reginald laughed his trademark laugh. "Hahahahahaha!" he cried. "Hahahahahahahaha!"

    As the pigs sizzled and struggled and beat their tender pink feet against the sides of the burning barrel, Sir Reginald grew more excited. Making good use of his armour, he banged his chausses, rattled his pauldrons and knocked his iron pallette braces on his breast plate.
   Then, for dramatic effect, he laughed wickedly again. ("Hahahahah," he went - in case you didn't read the first part.).
    Satisfied by the wickedness of his laughter, he gazed up at the night sky, noting with glee the evil clouds of smoke ascending toward heaven, blocking out the nice, pure, clean, virginal, unwicked stars.
    "Guys Fawkes Night!" exclaimed Sir Reginald to the captain of his squad of toy soldiers, "The Burning of Parliament! The Witches of Salem! They have nothing on Pig Burning night!"  At that Sir Reginald laughed once more. (Hahahahahah etc)
    In response the toy soldiers maintained rank. Not one soldier flinched. Not one soldier batted a wooden eyelash. The captain stared directly ahead.

    Unperturbed Sir Reginald turned to the nearest teddy bear - an old fellow with a dirty green patch on his left knee. "See, see, see," he said to the bear, as the flames flicked higher and higher.
    The bear, button eyes unblinking, gazed silently back at him.
    "Well hmmph!" said Sir Reginald, finally put out. "After all the trouble I've gone too, at least you might say something."
    Sir Reginald tilted his head, listening for a response.
    But the bear's lips, sewn together, didn't move.
    "Hmmph,' said Sir Reginald again. Maybe, he told himself, the sodden thing had stopped breathing.
    Then, just at that moment, at that very, very instant, he heard the crack of a twig in the shadows. He almost jumped for joy. There was someone else on the green! Someone had come to watch!
    Quivering, he stretched his neck and listened.

    He waited. And he waited. And he waited. But all around was silence.
    He sniffed. He snorted. He inhaled. He spat to clear his palate.
    Nothing at all.
    But... wait... aha! There was an odd smell coming from the other side of the Boer war monument. An odd smell, a delicate perfume wafting around the garden, drowning out the tasty smells of roasting pig.
   This new aroma was florid and flaccid - like crushed rose petals.
   Ahhahaha! he thought with disappointment - for he recognised the scent immediately. A garden fairy!
    And wearing aftershave!
    Damn cheek!

    Unsettled, Sir Reginald squeezed the neck of the pig in his fist a little harder. The pig squeaked, like it was a pink plastic toy.
   "Come out come out, where ever you are," Sir Reginald said to the shadows. He spoke softly and sweetly and added: "I won't hurt you. Not one little bit."
    But this was a lie of course.
     For Sir Reginald was known, in his home village of Linton, as the Big Bad Fairie Slayer of Lower Beezledom (BBFSOLB) - a title that he denied at his weekly Tuesday meetings with Dr Bazzle Nost, eminent child pathologist - the man who had taught him to laugh wickedly and (unbeknown to Sir Reginald) was the true father of the last seven of  Sir Reginald's fifteen children. (Cont page 45) ....

Hello? Well thanks for looking at the pics. If you didn't read about Sir Reginal Farquar (DSOTM, ABD, MNFLQR, Ret:) then I don't blame you - in fact you aren't the only one.
But good news! Last week I managed to visit 50 percent of the blogs that I wanted to visit. So this week I will catch up on the other fifty percent, but by the then I will be 75 percent behind, so by next Tuesday I will be right back where I started from.... so if you see me hovering outside the door, that's where I have been.....


  1. Oh lala! Ces pauvres petits cochons... j'ai envie de les sortir de ce tonneau...
    J'adore ces petits bears ... Dans mon atelier j'en ai partout... histoire peut-être de compenser le manque de jouets petite...
    Un monde fabuleux... Je retrouve le train électrique, mon fils Yannis-William adorait jouer au train électrique...
    Je suis très admirative de votre travail et je savoure chaque détail de chacune de vos photos.
    Gros bisous et aussi un grand merci pour vos gentils commentaires.

  2. This dark tale certainly was a little unsettling ;). I found myself wondering what happened to the garden fairy. Your art, is interesting and detailed.
    Thank you for your visit and kind comments about my art.

  3. Interesting piece... a bit of a dark tale indeed. Though I found myself expecting some type of reaction from the bear. And definitely wanting to know more of the garden faire. Well done.

  4. The wolf of the tree little pigs looks like a cute puppy compared to Sir Reginald. I like the story, it's scary as the fairy tales are supposed to be...does the garden fairy save the pigs...or what is left of them? I got the feeling Sir Reginald is going to end up in the barrel himself very soon.
    If he does can I keep the toys? :)

  5. Nice work and good storytelling. The image of the burning pigs is particularly engaging. I'm not certain what that says about me.

    Also, I very much enjoy Cabernet as well, but old vine zin is probably my favorite.

  6. HA! Are you locked up in Room 13 again? How did you get internet access? ;)

  7. Oh dear, you're feuding with Sir Reginald again. I heard he is posting pictures of you stealing candy from toddlers and hanging puppies on a clothesline by their skin.
    Who started it this time? I can tell you are quite peeved with Reggie.

  8. Ohhhhhh, Andrewwwwww. This was horrifying. It reminds me of the story I saw two days ago about villagers in India who caught and burned a leopard alive. :(

    As for your illustration, it's like a scene from one of those marvelous I Spy books! He does not deserve to have this wonderful collection of toys.

    I wish your magic word had been undies. HA. Please, dear sir, do not cancel your therapy session this week.

  9. Hello! My name is Sir Reginald Farquar, and I’m a fairie slayaholic. The first step is admitting it :o) At least he’s seeing a shrink! I was loving the yarn, until I saw the pigs.....They are so darn cute!!! Poor piggies. I guess even if you build your house out of bricks to avoid the big bad wolf, there is no escaping BBFSOLB! .............................
    .....Oh I’m back...I was looking for page 45. Oh by the way, thanks for posting the IRA warning at the beginning of your piece. It allowed me to refill my coffee cup and use the washroom so that I wouldn’t get sidetracked. You are a true gentleman Andrew :o)

  10. Ah, Pig Burning Night. Takes me back a ways. Why, I remember...well, never mind what I remember. It looks like a couple of the little porkers might make a getaway. After them, man!

  11. Hi Andrew, to much text to read, to much text, you know, I am really sorry, I have to come back to read all... but the pictures are again...finnieful (wonderful) I have to go to feed my sheep.........

  12. beautifull, your post are always beautifull and your works too! Tank you for posting

  13. These pigs need to be slaughtered humanely before being roasted. What sick demented mind this little Farqfart guy is. Bella is right. He does not deserve to have all these toys, little twerp. So sinister! He needs to have his hand touch the base of a hot flatiron! Aaaarghhh! See what you have incited!

  14. Oh, why did I visit your blog at bedtime? If I have nightmares about roast pork, it's your fault. Seriously, what a lively set of images...I love those 3 artists' mannequins running about. And your disclaimer made me glad to know that no real porcine lives were lost during the creation of your piece.

  15. Hahahahahaha!......Hahahahahahaha!

  16. I love bacon! Also really liking your wooden anatomy mannequins in the action. Reminds me of the many things they did in my dorm room when I was in college :) Always enjoy story time with you!

  17. THIS is not a blog. This is an EXPERIENCE! And a mighty good, powerful one at that. What amazing talent! I should have been following these long ago.

    I noticed Bella and Ces traveling here, and thought: If it is gook enough for them, it's gook enough for moi--little word for Miss Piggy there.

    Thank you.

  18. Andrew have you been discussing ideas for artwork with my husband again? LOL, poor piggies being roasted alive. I love all the little mannequins. It's a very interesting combination of elements you have going here Mr. Finnie.

  19. This is scary stuff, but strangely beautiful too!
    I feel sorry for those little pigs. ;-)
    Good to stop by your blog and see your amazing artwork!
    Jo May.

  20. you know since returning to England ive opened my own tap dance school in the hope that i can pass on my experience and knowledge to other young performers such as Sir Reginald Farquar :D im so happy reading this post, ive missed Sir Reginald Farquar.

  21. We all fancy a bit of BBQ now and then... but my gawd! Tranquilize or stun the little porkers first! He has a trademark on Hahahaha? I hope we don't have to start paying royalties on it now! Hahahaha! Uh oh... Hee hee hee!

  22. Hi Andrew,

    Glad that you wrote the disclaimer about the pigs not been real pigs.
    Great work and storytelling and I loved the collection of toys, especially the bear and the cane pram.
    thanks for visiting me

    Happy Wednesday

  23. Enjoyed this story and your artwork is as awesome as ever- But remind me not to invite Sir Reginald Farquar to the next weenie roast! Hee hee! :o)

  24. Andrew -- this is so bizzarely compelling! I don't know whether I'd love to look inside your head or feel a need to stay away from it! Incredible art, as always. (Someday we'll have to meet over a couple of pints!)

  25. What Danial said. Only I think those are called quarts.

  26. Andrew, I have one of your bears... poor thing arrived at the Lab last night in complete hysterics. I will feed him and give him a bed but you or that rotten cousin of yours, must pay for the therapy. ~L

  27. andrew i forgot!!! theres something i need to ask!!!
    dammit my connection *****&&&&&&&%%%$$$$######%^^^@@@@ be back later

  28. OH my gosh, Andrew..I am lost in your tale goodness, such amazing visuals and your creativity is outrageous! (outrageous in the most highest-esteemed compliment of course!). That darned fairy with after shave..incredible tale, Andrew. I enjoyed all of it. Love that those soldiers didn't even bat a wooden eyelid either! : ) Goodness, a bit o' cheap tequila with boiled pigs..sounds like a bit of a feast. Ha! I always marvel at your take us right into your world however tangled and twisted and fabulous you make it. Thank you, Andrew for this fun jaunt. Hope you have a fabulous weekend ahead!

  29. Well, well. A child's haven, a torture chamber and a kitchen all at once. And you told me your childhood was far from merry? Sorry, I don't buy it. :)

    I spotted a few interesting remarks in the comments:

    Hhm. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

    But then I also spotted 'cheap tequila' and 'washroom'.

    So those two kind of complete the puzzle.


  30. Not to mention the VF I just got: typormed.

    Well, shocking, eh?

  31. Andrew,
    I loved all this suspense, and the 'tones' of cruelty throughout the story, especially with the pink pig! : D "hahahahahaha!"

    But this illustration is absurdly complete!
    is a 'body' consisting of 'cells'
    in each inch, which holds a full composition!
    It's so beautiful and fantastic!
    one of my favorites, until now!
    (anxious to get to page 45)!

    yeah, I'm a little absent, because from the beginning of the year, with the surprise death of my PC, I was confused, frustrated and very angry ... I'm using an old pc that is slowly driving me crazy, and "rehearsing" the right time to buy another ...
    beyond that, I'm with tendinitis in his right hand ... so I have to take a break with the mouse ... well, that's enough, right?
    facts are "boring and routine"that appear in the life of any mortal!

    Come ahead! ever!
    a hug! :)

  32. lieber Andrew, es ist unser liebstes Spielzeug zu sehen….
    Die kleinen und großen Feen sind immer im Leben real, ohne sie wäre es dunkel und die Fantasie verloren,
    schöne feine Details mit großer Bewunderung zu sehen,
    viele Grüße Jasmin

  33. You tickle me, Mr. Finnie! Nobody can keep you bottled up, no-siree. And shame on the person who tries. Many, many heartfelt thanks for the plug. HAHAHA, love your magazine cover! That's one duet I'd kill to hear. E-NUN-ciate, Frankie. E-NUN-ciate!

    Hope things are going well with your project! Thank youuuuuuuuuu!

  34. i dunno i just had to visit you here:

    right click ---> save image as

  35. I miss you. I hope you are well.

  36. Hey,
    How are you???
    Hope you are not back into room 13...
    I just came to say hi...and steal a few toys :D

  37. happy easter to you too :D
    how are you?

  38. sorry ive been away.
    still taking a break from the internet.
    hope youve been well...


  39. not from the internet, i mean, from blogger/blogging.

    (according to Wikimoticons---Wikipedia for Emoticons, that means "innocent face")

    yeah whatever.

  40. hahah, im not really back, im just replying comments (does that make any difference?)

    im still tired of blogging/blogger/especially strangers, whatever, aside from the fact that im having problem with this crazy little thing called love (you know, like always), theres this stranger guy who thinks i am the love of his life (please... get a life... i mean, a real one)

    okay, have a nice weekend byebye im off

  41. Never seen a blog like this.
    So creative!!!!
    GReat work
    Saludos desde España

  42. Estimado, he querido comentar en tus ultimos posteos y no he podido, puedes indicarme como hacerlo...



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