Ah, looks as if you were able to transport the table safely across that rickety bridge and through the jungle, plus you got a decent conversation about Sorcerer out of it; no time to rest though. The hard-earned pesos in your pocket are burning a hole and that hole just so happens to be in the shape of the U.S. state known as Oregon. Touching down in the Portland International Airport, you overhear some fellow passengers talking about the local truffle market and their excitement for the tasty treats it produces. "You have to try the truffle aioli and dehydrated potato crisps at Zarbinsi!" one of them exclaims, a hint of authority in their voice, "It's honestly the best in town. They serve it with deconstructed corn on the cob, and a light drizzle of fermented wheat paste from a local farm a few miles out of the city." Everyone listening in the group nods in unison, but you're not in the group, so you are at liberty to roll your eyes. You're not interested in eating words, you want the real dirt! Just as you roll your eyes up, you catch a glimpse of a poster advertising truffle tours. It reads "Come forage for more knowledge with us! Get down and dirty with the pigs that find that the fungi everyone invites to the flavor party." Your curiosity is peaked, and you book yourself a tour into the Oregonian wilderness. "Stay close, everyone!" the tour guide implores, but there's no adventure in playing it safe (not for you, you maverick renegade), so you quietly slip out of the pack and wander toward a cabin in the distance. When you arrive, you hear the stillness of the forest, a soft stream of water in the distance, and you feel a pressure around you that's peaceful and somehow anxiety-inducing. The cabin door is open, a cast-iron pan props it, and from inside you hear a muffle of voices clearly trying to imitate someone, each saying "Where's my Truffle Pig?" You take a few cautious steps into the interior, round the first corner you see, and... it's the table. You could've sworn you left it in South America, but here it is. Oh, and John, Ryan, and Dixon are here too. Why not put down the novelty trowel the tour company gave you and have a seat at the table? You came looking for the real dirt, join us as we dig for it in Michael Sarnoski directorial debut: Pig.
