Al Biggs, "Big Al"
Big brother Al; he maybe ain't the best lookin', or the best smellin', but he sure do give the best hugs... He the man that started it all, bringin' the Biggs family into Iowa to slaughter all them little piggies. They say he hears voices in his head that ain't there...but it ain't always easy hearin' voices over all them screams.
They say idle hands is the devil's dang-a-lang, and lord love our brother Trig, 'cause he ain't never let a moment idle. But then who don't love their work when it means slaughterin' little piggies? He never took no wife 'cause he married to his work, but we ain't gonna lie - this ain't what you'd call a healthy relationship.
Some smart fellar once said, You can "judge the heart of a man by his treatment of animals," and brother, he weren't lyin'. Ain't nobody loves piggies more than old uncle Lefty. Sure, he gotta give most schools, churches and parks a wide berth, but when them little piggies end up in the hole, he likes to get real close. And when the carnival comes through, you can bet Uncle Lefty goes missing for a couple days, and there's a new clown in the carnival.
Waynelle Raylene Biggs
Boy, she sure is pretty...pretty darn crazy! Don't let her well did hair or her pig-knuckle necklace fool ya; this ol' gal don't love nothin' more than cuttin' little pigs throats and watchin' 'em squeal. She used to work with chickens, grabbin' 'em by they heads and snappin' they necks - but there just weren't enough blood in it. Now she can't get enough. It's like these dumb pigs is just linin' up, one after the other, to get in for slaughterin'.
Cleavon Bodean Biggs
There ain't alot Cleavon don't know; they call him a Jack of all Trades. On the other hand, he still can't figure out why he loves killin' pigs so much. You ain't seen a man so enraptured by his work, bringin' they heads back, slicin' they throats, one after the other after the other, like it weren't nobody's business. On the weekends, Brother Cleavon gives us all a bit of the good Lord's grace when he holds mass. Least, that's what the family calls eatin' lunch raw, anyhow.
Poor son of a bugger! Cousin Gabriel still thinks he livin' in the world's Great War - that's 1917, for you lil pigs. They say all them chemicals he was breathin' durin' that trench warfare is what's kept him 'round all these years. Too bad it's also what's kept him so dang crazy! 'Course, he's one o'them contemplative types - after he gets done cuttin' pigs' throats, he likes to stand and stare, watch the heart pump out the blood, watch the steam rise off. Sometimes...he just get's lost back back in them old days.
When he ain't drivin' trucks cross country, he's loadin' pigs up, bringin' them to the barn and let 'em out into the dark. Then, just when they think they safe... Fact, there ain't nothin' more thrillin' to Rigs than gettin' up real close to them piggies, smellin' they skin...and bringin' out his skinnin' knife up against they throat. He's also the Biggs family barber, what with the mighty close shave he knows how to give.