Peeved Pigs

Art c/o Jenn

"Sir, it's the pigs - they've gone mad."

"What do you mean mad? Like they're oinking more than normal or they've gained intelligence and have formed a mob to come and try to kill us?"

"The latter sir. Torches, pitchforks, the works."

"Well, that's no good."

"What do we do now sir?"

"Well, we're not exactly in Frankenstein's castle, are we?"

"No sir."

"Fairly exposed in this old barn that was built to house a single biplane."

"Sir, I've had an idea - we could use the biplane to escape."

"Brilliant - they'd never catch us."

"When pigs fly."

"Don't say that."

"Yes sir."

"You push it into position, I'll get the fuel."

"Yes sir."

- a few minutes later -

"Well, that was close - who knew they'd have such good aim?"

"Not I, sir."

"How could we have foreseen such a tragedy?"

"Perhaps we shouldn't have stored that vat of brain-gro right next to the pigsty."

"Perhaps."

"And on such a stormy night."

"Indeed."

"Well, sir, we were very lucky."

"Yes indeed - you really saved my bacon!"