Gentles,
This is my first post to the FFML, the first part of an original series I�ve
been doing. It�s been up before in various places and will go up on the Web
again. It�s not a direct anime thing, although it does take inspiration from
things like Urusei Yatsura and KOR.
I�m posting this and future episodes out of desire for comments, feedback,
and support from fellow writers out there. The characters are completely my
own.
Michael Hopcroft
Weird Guy
Episode One: �This Little Piggy Went Boom�
By Michael Hopcroft
His name is Arthur Random. He tries his best to look normal, by wearing
suits, shirts and ties. Of course, it would help if he limited his selection
to one set of these at a time . . .
If anyone�s life screams out �I�ve Gotta Be Me,� it�s his. Yet one day he
realized he was tired of it.
That morning he looked at his face in the mirror and said �This is no good.
I�ll never get anywhere if I don�t conform!� So he decided to shave off his
beard, and picked up an electric razor. After a moment of futile effort he
realized it might be better to plug it in. Once that was accomplished, he
switched it on and heard a satisfying buzzing sound. So he applied it to the
corner of his face. At that moment, the buzzing sound ceased. He pulled it
away and it started buzzing again, then placed it back�where it stopped
again.
After several such attempts, Arthur realized something was amiss. Now,
Arthur was not weird by choice�in fact, he wanted to be a straight arrow.
But it never seemed to work out that way. His electric shaver suddenly
turning spooky was an example of the sort of things that happened to him. So
he couldn�t shave himself, so he�d have to go to a barber. He went to the
Yellow Pages and found a barber shop downtown. Then he headed out on the
bus.
As Arthur took a window seat for a twenty-minute ride, he mused over a new
determination. Strangeness is unnecessary. If he could exercise his will to
live a normal life, it would go away. At the moment he decided to do this,
the bus died. The driver was truly baffled about why his bus had simply
stopped moving. Fortunately for Arthur, the driver did not make a
connection.
After three more buses met similar fates, Arthur finally made it downtown.
With the address of the barber clutched in his hand, he started out for it.
He had just reached the corner in front when he felt something tugging at
his outer sleeve. He looked down expecting to see a lost child.
Instead he saw a pig. But it was an unusual pig. It stood on its hind
hooves, had rudimentary hands on its other �legs,� and had a sorrowful
expression on its face. Arthur could tell right away this was not a happy
pig. But the only thing a pig could possibly want from him, he thought, was
for him to convert to something under which it is not legal to eat pigs. If
this was a message from heaven, he thought, there are better ways to go
about it.
Then the pig spoke.
�Hi!�
Arthur jumped away is dismay. Why would the world�s first talking pig talk
to him?
The pig choked back a tear. �Please don�t run away, mister. I want to talk
to you.�
�You�re not real!� cried Arthur. �You�re a psychotic delusion! A
hallucination brought on by excessive use of cheese! If you�ll excuse me, I�
ll go to the loony bin now and commit myself.�
�No, you won�t. I�m real, and you�re going to have to face it. And you�re
the only one who can help me find a cure.�
�Cure? You mean a cure for being a pig?�
�No, a cure for self-detonation. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hugo,
the Exploding Pig.�
Arthur gave the pig a very surprised look. Then he picked up the pig and
dragged him into a nearby deserted bus shelter. �Look, if you�re a little
kid telling a joke . . . �
�What time is it?� asked the pig.
�Time? Let�s see . . . Ah, it�s right here in the shelter. 3:21 p.m.�
�3:21?!? I gotta get clear of this thing!� With that the pig dashed out into
the street, ducked between a couple of buses, and got into the center just
as the bus sign switched to 3:22.
A thunderous explosion went off in the middle of the street. The smell of
smoked bacon filled the air, and made Arthur a little bit hungry. He looked
out at the street. Nope. No pig. All around the scene people were coughing
from the smoke, and picking themselves up from the blast. At least nobody
was hurt, Arthur thought. But then he remembered the sad, soulful, beady
little eyes on that unfortunate swine. Why couldn�t he have done something?
Why did an innocent pig have to die? He turned around to resume his trip to
the barber . . .
And ran smack into Hugo.
�I�m back!� said the pig.
Arthur looked back at the scene of the detonation and back at the pig. �Did
you really?....�
�Yes, I really. But I reform myself after about two minutes. Part of the
curse.�
�Curse?�
�Think I like blowing myself to smithereens every day?�
�Well . . .
�I am cursed with sentience � a pig�s life is awful dull if you have a human
mind. I am cursed with the ability to detonate myself at will. And I am
cursed to go off every day at 3:22 p.m. exactly, no matter where I am or
what I�m doing.�
Arthur shook his head, now beginning to pity the unfortunate porker. �You
said I could cure you?�
Hugo smiled and offered his hand. �You�re the only person in this whole city
who would bother to help an exploding pig. You could have just turned tail
and fled, but you didn�t. You took me to what you thought was safety
instead. I�m proud of you, man!�
Arthur released a heavy sigh. So much for conformity. So much for shaking
the strangeness in his life. Suddenly he had an exploding pig to take care
of, and he might well have no choice but to embrace it.
�All right,� Arthur said, �you can come home with me. But don�t detonate in
the house and always use the bathroom. OK?�
�YIPPIE!� cried the pig. �This is the start of something big! Can I wear the
second tie from the top?�