Hilda Wanders Off

"Hey, what's her deal?"

Blinking up to the tiny thieves, Hilda's eyes stay bleary. Snorting and scratching her heaving belly, she licks a tusk. Naked, stupid, and robbed of even her humanity, she's powerless to watch as the cunning creatures scan her up and down, bicker back and forth.

"I dunno."
"Should we get her some water? She looks thirsty."
"Yeah, I can see that. But what are we gonna do with her?"
"Try and check her pockets?"
"Come on, man, you know she doesn't have those."

Groaning in displeasure at the tinny voices filling each of her floppy piggy ears, Hilda sloshes her blubbery body from the back-lay of a hibernating to the side-lean of a domestic fat cat. Occasionally, she opens her mouth to speak but, instead of words, all that comes out is a hoarse and low-pitched grunt.

"Well, then call Bruno!"
"He's on lunch."
"Then call him back!"
"I can't do that."
"Why not?!"

Groaning, growing tired of the noise, Hilda grunts, exerts all the muscle she has left in her stubby chubby legs, and fights her gravity hard to stand.

"Regulation!"
"Regulation?!"
"Carnie Code guarantees every humanoid worker in need of physical subsistence a thirty minute lunch break. If anyone tries to interfere with that, then they're off in a world of hurt, y'hear?"
"Well, fine! We're on our own, the next wave'a patrons'll be here in about two minutes, and we'd need about ten of us to roll that fatsack outta here."

One ground-shaking step after the other, Hilda lugs herself out of the food court with a steady rhythm. Big belly bouncing, thighs quivering, arms pumping strong with each opposing footstep, the pig was off at an effortful two miles per hour.

"Oh, don't think like that. Be positive!"
"Well what's that gonna do, y' idiot?!"
"If we think positive, we can figure something out."
"Figure something out? Figure what out? She's as big as a horse, you daft newbie!"
"Well, what about a--? Hey, where'd she go?"