Mother 3: Fall of the Pig King

Chapters 2+3

STILL BY CRACKED BAT

 

 

CHAPTER 2 PIGS MAY FLY

Ricky tore through the door panting, followed by Krause. They ran off into their rooms for their backpacks. Boney was huddled in a corner, whining his poor head off. It looked as if he was forced to watch Battlefield Earth three times. But the twins paid no attention. Ricky jammed a jar of peanut butter, a pair of clothes, his mini cold fusion cell, and his super-rare Mother 2 cartridge signed by the great Shigesato Itoi himself into his backpack. Kruase put in many undocumented items of his, but his Bad Key Machine was hanging out of the side-pocket. Ricky grabbed Boney’s leash and forcibly attached it to Boney’s collar, with a bit of barking and nipping. Krause ran out into the main room while Ricky struggled with the dog. After about a minute, they were all sitting in the pickup truck in silence, save Boney’s constant whimpering and shivering. Krause finally spoke out, but in a whisper.

"What do you think is happening?" he said in a very soft tone.

"…"

"You’re no fun…"

Boney yelped and crawled further back behind the pedals, amazingly scrunching his body up into a tiny ball. Krause knew that whatever happening was something that would probably effect more than just them, but the town, and eventually the country. But he didn’t know quite what. A sudden breeze rattled the old woodshed that the truck was in, and Boney tried to get even smaller.

"Do you think it’s been ten minutes yet?" Krause asked, reaching in his side-pocket for his Bad Key Machine.

Ricky checked his watch. It was now 12:10.

"We should wait about five more minutes," Ricky said with a little yawn. He slumped back into the seat, wondering what the heck was bothering Boney. Suddenly, there was a loud rattling sound. Ricky, gritting his teeth and bracing, peered out the window. The woodshed was falling apart! The walls gave way and a beam from the roof slammed into the hood, making a big dent. The rest of it fell, causing a great deal of noise. After a couple of seconds, the chaos was over. Broken glass covered the dashboard from where the old lawn mower engine struck the windshield, and a very deep dent was on the roof where something heavy obviously hit. Ricky got up from bracing position and looked around. Krause was still bracing himself, whimpering a bit, and Boney was right where he was, looking rather like a giant white and brown hairball.

"I think it’s okay," Ricky said to Krause. He didn’t move.

"There’s something wrong…" Krause said in a serious tone, still hiding his head.

"And you just now realized that?"

"No…they’re here…"

Ricky would normally say he’s just paranoid, but after what happened in the last half an hour, he believed him.

"Hotwire the lock then! We’ve gotta get out of here!"

Krause got up and began to fumble with his Bad Key Machine. Ricky loaded his trusty old paintball gun with shaky hands. He hoped it wasn’t whatever came from that weird spaceship thing. Krause had just gotten done finding the right mold when there was a thud from behind them. Somebody – or something – was on the truck bed. Krause slammed the bad key machine into the ignition.

"Hurry it up!" Ricky whispered sharply.

"It can’t be rushed! It needs time!" Krause said, sounding very panicked. He pressed the button on it to start molding. There were now strange-sounding footsteps coming from the truck bed. They sounded a bit like hooves, and they seemed to be moving slowly. The Bad Key Machine was getting close to being done, but the footsteps were now closer and Boney had gone silent. Gathering up his courage, Ricky looked out the back window. He couldn’t see very well in the darkness, but he saw the figure of a fat thing with two stubby arms and legs BENDING DOWN TO LOOK IN!

"HURRY IT UP! NOW!" Ricky screamed.

"It’s ready! It’s ready!" Krause shouted, turning the Bad Key Machine. The ignition started up with a roar. Krause slid down, put the pedal to the metal, and made Boney jump out of hiding with a yelp. They left a pile of burnt rubber in the dirt and took off. Over the tires screeching, they heard something slam onto the truck bed followed by a squeal sounding like a pig’s. Boney jumped up on the seat in between the twins, giving a valiant effort to stay balanced. Krause slid back up into his seat to see the road. Only they weren’t on the road. They were going to plow into a tree! He swerved left, managing to only graze the tree, but making a terrible sound. Ricky, bracing himself, heard a squeal followed by a thud. Krause was too busy navigating his way back out of the ditch and onto the dirt road. They were hitting 85 mph, which was a little off the speedometer, and the engine was already overheating. After a very rough ride, they finally managed to pull up onto the road. They all gave a sigh of mild relief.

"What…was that?" Krause said, catching his breath.

"I’m not sure I want to know," Ricky answered softly, "But I think we better get to town soon. Maybe somebody will be able to help us…"

Boney was curled up, trembling like heck and Krause was panting, with a look of utter exhaustion of his face.

"You drive it now…" Krause said, slumping onto Boney. Ricky sighed. He carefully stepped to the other side, pushing Krause and Boney over. Ricky was taller than Krause, so he didn’t have to slide down to reach the pedals. He hit the gas and they started back down the road, this time more slowly. Ricky looked beyond a hill and saw the lights of Einesville. It was about a half an hour’s drive from there at forty mph, so he could make it there in no time at all at sixty. The truck went down the hill and by the old Hogg’s Pig Farm. There was something wrong, however. Even though Mr. Hogg and his wife were on a vacation in Summers, the lights were on. It was strange, but Ricky didn’t want to get into any more weirdness that night, or for the rest of the week for that matter. He went up the next rolling hill and through the forest of pine trees. Peering ahead, he noticed a few strange, glinting objects in the middle of the road not too far ahead, illuminated by the headlights. He turned to see Krause leaning against the door, snoozing with his jaw wide open. He sighed.

"Krause! KRAUSE!" Ricky said. Kruase opened an eye and wiped the saliva off of his mouth.

"Are we there?" he mumbled, pulling himself up.

"No. There’s something ahead of us!"

"Nnuh…?"

Ricky slowed down. He could see clearer now. Strangely enough, there were five pigs in a v-formation in middle the road just about forty feet ahead of them. The most peculiar thing was, however, that they were wearing shiny medieval helmets.

"…In the name of all that is sacred and holy?" Ricky said out loud, sounding very confused. He had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling about this. Without hesitation, he hit the gas. Krause was jerked backwards, fully waking him up. They were getting closer and closer to the pigs, and they could hear Boney’s whining. The pigs did not move. Just as it looked as if Ricky was going to run them down, they all somehow climbed to their feet.

"Holy crap!" he screamed, blasting the horn. Suddenly, there was a thud as three pigs landed on the hood. The twins screamed, and Ricky swerved out of control. In a valiant attempt to gain control, Ricky grabbed the wheel. It was too late. Everything went upside down for a second, then right-side up, then upside down, then a terrible screech and thud, then darkness.

CHAPTER 3 BONEY’S UNUSUAL ADVENTURE

If you hadn’t already figured it out, the truck had swerved off the road and tumbled into a ditch. The pigs were too much for the poor amateur driver. It was looking very dark for the twins. Boney had managed to protect himself by climbing underneath the dashboard and bracing himself at the last second, managing to get by with a little more than a bump. Now the truck was on it’s side, and Boney was wedged underneath the dashboard due to the door, which had been removed and thrust inside upon impact. Boney was a bright dog, which is why he doesn’t want anything to do with this ordeal. Shivering in fear and not daring to whimper, he heard grunting outside. Knowing most dialects of Animal, he caught a few words that sounded very piggish.

"I think he’s fine. Just a broken leg."

"The Master will soon find a replacement."

"Remember the orders. Grab the kids and get back to the farm."

"Yeah. What about the dog?"

"What about the dog?"

"You’re right. The thing’s probably dead."

After a few seconds, it sounded to Boney like somebody was tampering with the other door. It rattled for a moment, and then there was a loud ripping noise. Boney heard snorting and grunting, and he didn’t dare make a sound. There was some scuffling noises above him, and through a little hole in dim light of something, he saw a porkish hoof reach down and grab the bodies of Ricky and Krause. He watched in horror as the pig, being supported by another, hurled the twins through the broken door. After that, another hoof reached down and grabbed the backpacks. He heard some more grunting.

"Nice catch, Dave!"

"Yeah, yeah…The Master will certainly be pleased…"

"But we’ve still gotta get rid of this truck, or someone might see it right away! You take care of it, Gordon."

"Why do I always have to do this stuff?"
"Because…you’re special. Now get to it!"

There was a bit of senseless snorting after that, and Boney heard footsteps going up the steep ditch. Soon he heard them back on the road and getting further and further away. He let out a soft sigh. He was sure the boys could handle the situation. They always did. But his brief reassurance was shattered when he heard (and felt) the side of the truck scraping against the ground. Boney let out a yelp and hit the bottom of the dashboard with his poor head. He whined a bit, then he realized that he had made a mistake. He heard the pig snuffling, and without further warning, the door was torn away from the dashboard and Boney was face-to-face with what looked like the face of a twisted pig. Boney yelped once more. The pig snorted cruelly as he slowly reached in towards the terrified dog.

I ain’t no coward! Boney told himself sharply. Without further consideration, he growled and dug his teeth into the pig’s leg. It gave a horrible squeal as it jerked backwards, hitting his head against the roof. The pig gave out an equally awful cry as he raised his hoof above his head. Before the evil swine could take a swing, however, Boney bolted out of the cavity that was once the door and into the night.

Boney was already well on his way back to the house before the pig could even squeal another curse. He knew that this was terribly wrong. Pigs were normally mild mannered and intelligent animals (to a dog’s standards, that is) who ate too much. Tonight they had attacked him. And not long before that, he had seen something else equally weird and terrifying in the woods where he played during the day. Then there was the truck… It was altogether too much of a burden for his little mind to bear. If he got home and slept on the old chair by the fire, everything would be all right. As he approached the place where the pigs were kept behind fences, however, that strange feeling overwhelmed him once more. Silhouetted in the lights of the windows, he saw the figures of two pigs each hauling something over their backs. Boney sniffed for a moment, then he knew that, without a doubt, it was the twins. He knew they couldn’t handle this one! Boney curled his lips and growled, then sprinted towards the pigs as they were just opening the door. He was seriously ticked off now, and as he jumped in the air to lunge out and tackle the sinister hogs, the door slammed shut. Boney saw stars for a second, but due to the intense adrenaline rush he was experiencing, he got right back up. Determined to rescue his friends, he scrambled up onto a crate, put his paws on the wall, and looked through the window.

"That was easy! (Snort) (Grunt)" Ike grunted as he slammed Krause onto the table, shaking the whole room.

"Don’t do that! Master wants them alive," Dave snorted, placing Ricky right next to his brother’s unconscious body, "We need to call the Master. He will be most pleased."

The ugly pig named Dave walked towards the door. Boney was rather confused about what the now intellectually superior (to his standards) pigs were saying. However, that animal instinct in the back of his mind was telling him: Get in there and save them! Boney nodded to himself, then jumped off the crates and began his search for a convenient entrance to the house. He looked towards where he had run into the door, and much to his embarrassment, there was a clearly visible doggy door right underneath where he hit. If Boney were physically capable of slapping himself in the forehead, he would have done it. He quietly crept through the little door and into the room. It appeared to be a living room type of place. The two twins were still on the coffee table, but the pig called Ike was sitting in the armchair right next to it. To make matters worse, he heard grunting coming from behind the door on the left side of the room. He began to plan his strategy. After a couple of seconds, he shook his head. With all of his energy, he barked and charged towards the pig in the armchair a couple of feet away. The pig began to turn with a snort, only to meet Boney’s lunge at full force. With a tremendous crash and squeal, Boney, Ike, the old armchair, and the reading lamp fell tumbling to the ground. The dust cleared quickly and Boney was on top of the pig, whose head was knocked against the lamp and the wall. He let out a long, content sigh. Suddenly, the door on the other side of the room was torn apart with a nasty crash, and Dave was standing in the shattered frame of the door. He was impressively holding a spear in his right hoof and appeared to be furious. Boney flashed an innocent smile and bolted out the doggy door.

Gordon was royally ticked off. He looked up towards the house, grunting curses under his breath about the general race of dogs. He carefully removed his helmet, set it down by the wreckage of the truck, and very stealthily crept towards the farmhouse. As he reached the path on the front yard, however, a streak of white flew from the door. Gordon smiled maniacally and swiftly prepared to pound that stupid dog’s head into the ground. However, he took one second too long in preparation. He felt something strike him the gut very painfully, then his head hitting the ground, then nothing. And now the point of view will go back to Boney.

Boney was sure that he had hit something, but he wasn’t sure what. All he knew was that one extremely angry piggy was pursuing him and he was still running. He tore off down the dirt road towards his house, but alas, he wasn’t as good as a runner as he was a year ago. He began to slow down, panting wildly. He finally broke down into a trot as he was just a couple hundred feet from the porchlight of his house. Whimpering, Boney turned to look behind him. The pig was still running strong. Boney stopped in his tracks and foolishly turned to meet his opponent. This may be his last mistake ever. Dave was charging strong, a fiendish grin on his face. Boney got down low in attack position and showed his teeth. As the pig closed in, he raised his spear above his head, ready to skewer the pesky dog once and for all. With a great cry, the pig dramatically jumped in the air and thrust the spear down towards Boney with two hands. The spear split vertically as it hit very brutally, doing much damage with ruthless efficiency, but to the dirt a few inches in front of Boney’s paw. There was silence as the pig was suspended, still clutching half of the shattered spear, and Boney smiling at him mockingly. The pig’s eyes grew enormous and his big round nose began to twitch. His upper lip went up into a hideous sneer as the split spear suddenly gave way. Dave landed headfirst, and Boney won the battle with a tremendous amount of luck. The twins popped into Boney’s mind and he trotted back to the farmhouse.

Within minutes, Boney was licking the faces of Ricky and Krause. Each one of them got up with a groan and a bit of disgust. Krause was up first, rubbing his bleeding forehead.

"The pigs…" he mumbled, "We’re…okay."

Ricky pushed Boney away and climbed shakily to his feet. He straightened himself up, wiped the blood from his arm, and gave a smile.

"My life was flashing before my eyes! It was boring. I wonder who saved us…"

"I don’t…wow…that was weird," Krause said incoherently, rubbing his now throbbing and bleeding forehead, "It’s so hot…or maybe so…get help?"

Krause fell to the ground with a thud. Ricky jumped and rushed over to his brother’s side, shaking him.

"Crap! Crap!" he swore. He figured that the truck crash had jarred his brother’s poor brain, or the pigs psyched him out. He needed help…fast. He looked over to Boney. No. That dog would never amount to anything. He didn’t even try to save them. He placed Krause up on the couch, called Boney over to his side and was about to run out to get help, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Carefully, Ricky walked over to open the door. He opened it to find no other than… Skate Punk Mike!

"Hello!" he said in his slightly British accent, "If you didn’t already know, I’m Skate Punk Mike, leader of the local Friendly Skating Gang. We were just doing our weekly canned food collection for the people in Ethiopia when that explosion went off not too far from here. We’re now going house-to-house wondering if anyone needs any help and collecting food. Do you need any-?"

"Yes! My brother was…injured by debris. He’s a bit…incoherent. He needs an ambulance!"

"Incoherent?" he asked, raising his pierced eyebrow, "Methinks I can fix that."

Skate Punk Mike flipped his skateboard and walked in, examining the room. Boney walked cautiously up to him, sniffing his hand, then licking him. Mike looked around the room, then raised his eyebrow again.

"That’s queer. Why is there a pig in your house? There was another in your front yard. You might want to keep your pigs in the pen behind the house."

"HELP MY BROTHER, WILL YOU!?"

"Of course. Sorry, man."

Mike walked over to Krause, who was now muttering senseless things and nodding his head. He examined him for a second and said:

"This is rather serious. His brain was jarred. I know just the thing for him."

Mike closed his eyes and put his hands over Krause’s body.

"PK Heal alpha…" he uttered. A warm green light glowed from the palms of his hands, then faded. Krause opened his eyes wide and groaned. Ricky stood gaping in disbelief.

"It’s rather simple, really. I’m glad to be of help. If there’s anything else you need, you know where my house is!" he said, smiling.

"W-what did you just do?" Ricky stammered.

"It’s called psychokenesis. But it’s better known it as PK. Most people can use it when the need comes. If you find you have it, don’t abuse it. You’ll literally overheat until you pass out. But if it’s really bad, you might even go up in bloody flames. Good night."

Mike began to walk out, but Krause shouted, "Wait! We need a…safer place to rest."

"Okay," Mike replied, "You can come with us back to town. But I’m sure there’s nothing wrong…"