Pickled pigs

Last weekend we visited friends in Starkville, Mississippi. We went out to a bar that had live music and is sort of famous for their drinks called "Pickled Pigs". After ordering two apiece (and leaving before finishing even half of the seconds) I now understand the name. On the way home we thought it would be a good idea to cut through a graveyard. A graveyard that had barbed wire fence around it. As we looped across the paths, Bud said, "this is rude, dead people don't like this, walking on their graves". I thought, they'll understand, if they've ever had a pickled pig.