baconpiggy5

It was a dark and chilly night. The piggy rested in the forest, nursing his wounds. Earlier that day he had been shot at by negligent hunters, who didn't appear to care about pig hunting laws. He was intent on getting his revenge, but as he was about to pounce on one, a shell tore through his lower left leg. He limped away as fast as he could, and hid out in a hollow, dark, dank log in the forest. The log was obviously previously a bear's house, as there were pieces of multiple animals on the mossy floor. Then he heard them. Footsteps. The crunch of leaves, the crack of a branch snapping. The pig crawled all the way into the middle of the log, and hoped he wouldn't have to go through what he had earlier again. A bolt of pain shot through him as he sat on his injured leg, and the pig unintentionally let out a small cry. "Did you hear that, Joe? I think we found ourselves some breakfast!" one of the hunters exclaimed. "It seemed to come from this here log," the man named Joe said, and the pig heard a sharp crack as Joe kicked his hiding place with his leather boot. "There's a pig in there, alright". The pig tried to make himself as small as possible. A leathery, blistered hand reached into the log and dragged the pig out by the scruff of his neck. "Oi! This one'll be nice and juicy!" said the other hunter. They threw the pig into the sack and dragged him away.

Hours later...

"Joe, wake up! We're here," the hunter said "Get 'em out of that bag and into the cage". The pig felt the bag being picked up, and the inside lit up as Joe walked into a lighted room. He was dumped onto the table, and he finally got a good look at his capturers. As he looked around, he spotted what looked like a claw, dangling from a metal cable over a vat of frying oil. Next to it was a strange looking panel with multiple different colored buttons poking out of it. The man hoisted him over onto a cold, stainless steel table, and strolled over to the panel. As he pushed the yellow button and started pulling on a joystick of some sort, the pig saw the claw move over, and stop a couple yards above him. Another button was pushed, and he squealed in terror as the claw bore down on him. It closed around him, it's jaws unfeeling and cold. The claw moved over until it was right above the vat of frying oil. A shot of terror flew down the pig's spine as he realized what was happening. He was going to be made into bacon. All around him, machines started whirring as the claw lowered him into the vat. He screamed in pain as the boiling oil encased his left side, when there was a loud metalic clang. He saw both hunters fall over, red blossoming on their clothes. Soon they were soaked in what looked like very liquid-y ketchup, and a man stepped out of the shadows, holding a pistol. He was young, maybe in his late twenties, and had whiskers poking out under his crooked nose. The agent didn't say a word as he turned the machine back on, and the pig was lifted out of the vat. Half of him was fried into bacon. The man guided the claw to the table with the joystick, and it released the half-fried pig onto the table. He landed on it with a wet thump. "You are now obviously unable to retain the species title 'pig' so I declare you the start of a new species of 'baconpiggys'" the man said. He picked up the baconpiggy and brought him outside, placing him down on the wet grass. "Go and find the other four of your kind," he said "and never let anyone take you again." The pig walked off, and knew he was an important piece of the future. The fifth baconpiggy. And he kept walking.