Pig Jack struggles within

[Episode 8, pt.2 - Pig Jack fawns over cute little cyborg-animals plus the elastic band that changes everything.]

Pig Jack watched clover-honey light and dusty-red laser beams bend around the edge of the door walrus Kath had scarcely cracked open, and some splits of a second later, bust all up in his face.

By the next flicker of the time separator on his Casio watch, a cloud of heat came crashing into the operating room of the shed behind the Kenting Radar Tower, carrying with it an acrid stench of blacksmith’s breeches tinged with formaldehyde; its origins tracing back to the 21 animal-cyborgs installed up and down the hallway and the 42,000 central processing units (CPUs) stuffed down each one of their throats.

The CPUs were burning rubber at 90°C,¹ collectively spewing out a deluge of energy so voluminous it equaled a torrent of joules cascading down from a cataract 15 kilometers in height.²

This too busted all over his swine grill.

"Damn it, Kath, what's taking so long?" He griped from within.

The Casio flickered for the second time since the door had cracked open.

Exasperated and sensing no change, he stretched out his neck to have a gander over walrus Kath's shoulder but recoiled instead at the pain that sliced through his face where the staples were holding the pig's hide in its place.

"Son of uh..." he cursed in his brain.

Pig Jack was on edge once the stinging abated and gave way to the notion that as rear guard, he'd effectively surrendered all control to walrus Kath. That edge sliced even thinner with the recollection that as much as a comprehensible utterance from the either one of them would light up the hallway in electric commotion, as per the HAPPS (High Alert Posture Protocol System).³

"Kath, babe. Hurry it up sweet cheeks," was all his mind could muster as he struggled to abide the suspense wrought by the near-total uncertainty mingled with even higher measures of unintended submission—like rushing home after a road trip only to find the bathroom is locked then, placing your ear on the door, hearing the notorious clunk ringing out from the toilet inside.  

The frustration he felt could have raptured his stomach, but instead sparked an unintended twitch down the arm holding missile Hupert by the feet and setting off a series of jolts that ran through the green-tip helmet, then up walrus Kath’s arm, and concluded with a nudge deciphered by her to mean that they’ve got to get this makeshift ship moving along.

"That's it, let's get this shit moving," synapsed in pig Jack’s brain after the gush of relief from the sight of the flick made by walrus Kath’s wrist on the doorframe and the kickback he felt from the thrust as its force overcame the inertia of her and her cargo, consequently sending them sailing into the hallway.

The Casio’s time separator flickered for the fifth time since the door had cracked open.

The operation was live once again.⁴