Philbert knew that today was his day. The day he would brush his gnarly lil whiskers against the great blue yonder.
For as long as the Longpigs could formulate words, the mocking hyperbole of “when pigs fly” was used to denote the lowly but proud ungulates. Theoretically, firstborns were given up, D grades changed to straight A’s, ugly boys given kisses, and business deals made with abandon. So much more. People were so quick to throw Philbert’s kind under the bus. Now? Now he would rise up over the bus, soaring, maybe releasing a ripe turd on the windshield.
He’d toiled endlessly alongside a team of engineers and swinentists for months, through fourteen prototypes. and six different trial runs. It was hard work, but they finally had it – the HoverBoar.
Snuffling softly into his wife Gretta’s hairy ear, he said his goodbyes. They’d run so many tests but anything could happen. Even if he never came back, he knew that he was making a much needed sacrifice. Gretta did as well. She couldn’t be more proud of him.
Pulling his jacket across his shoulders, Philbert gazed from the rooftop patio they’d designated upon the quiet stillness of the city. A bright August day greeted him and whispered an inviting welcome, soft winds rolling around his stubby ankles. He sighed deeply and stepped into the harness, strapping his hooves into the metal buckles and tightening the straps around a portly stomach. He laid one more forlorn eye upon the city, knowing that he was about to forever alter the course of human history. If only the humans had shown them respect. If only they’d curbed their love of bacon before the Great Porkening of 2026 had forced their hand. Oh well. None of that mattered now.
Philbert raised his snout to the sky, morning dew glistening on his many stubby black hairs, and firmly slapped the ignition button. With the force of a thousand chops, he was launched off of the patio. Activating the thrusters like he’d done so many times in the trial runs, he and the HoverBoar were sent hurtling over the city at breakneck speeds.
Then, he felt it. Almost as if the earth shuddered to a stop. The screaming from below – no, it seemed as though from all around him – brought joyous tears to his eyes. Mass confusion, hysteria, panic. Businessmen erupted into fountains of blood from the sidewalks below, birds began filling with air and exploding in feathery vortexes around him, and babies began levitating out of their strollers, turning sickly shades of green and yellow before ballooning ten times their size and speeding away with a cacophonous phhhbthbttthh noise. What grand things these people must have promised in their disregard for pigkind!
Seeing a dolphin explode into a swarm of bees just as he reached the edge of the water, Philbert grinned and engaged the second set of thrusters, leaning into the sky, and prepared to kiss the clouds.