Hammered
Hammered
I don’t like ham. Never have never will. Not since then, the great stampede. It was horrible, pigs everywhere. The streets flowed with their fat squealing bodies. They came so suddenly trampling every thing that could not move out of the way. Families stood on top of cars clinging to each other, shop keepers barricaded their businesses. Where did they all come from, crazed as they were?
He came then, a colossal man. Thundering down the street grabbing a pig and gulping it down whole. The mob of meat surged away from this glutton-ness giant, fighting down the road. They ran with the giant inches behind, each of its strides bringing another pig into its grasp. He swallowing them down huge gulps in quick succession. Such madness none would ever believe. Arms full the giant now grabbed no longer interested in the meat. Projectile porks now flew. Buildings smashed in hammered with hams. The giant turned muscles working to hurl a fat pig in my direction. There was no finesse in the throw, the pig was sent aloft through brute strength alone. The animal was released, sent tumbling through the air. You could see the terror in the animals eyes as it hurtled through the air. The pig collided with the stone work next to me, brick and pig mixed into a splatter no one should have to recall. Coated with this combination I stood stunned as the giant looked my way. It gazed at me confused as if I was not supposed to exist. It dropped its armloads of squealing pork and ran. The pigs ran with it and away from it scattering every which way, confused as I was with its change of course. As the dust finally settled we could finally view the destruction.
The towns people spent the remainder of that day dealing with the damaged property and the few remaining pigs. We rebuilt the town cleaned up the mess and moved on but not entirely. I have never like ham, not since that day.
I don’t like ham. Never have never will. Not since then, the great stampede. It was horrible, pigs everywhere. The streets flowed with their fat squealing bodies. They came so suddenly trampling every thing that could not move out of the way. Families stood on top of cars clinging to each other, shop keepers barricaded their businesses. Where did they all come from, crazed as they were?
He came then, a colossal man. Thundering down the street grabbing a pig and gulping it down whole. The mob of meat surged away from this glutton-ness giant, fighting down the road. They ran with the giant inches behind, each of its strides bringing another pig into its grasp. He swallowing them down huge gulps in quick succession. Such madness none would ever believe. Arms full the giant now grabbed no longer interested in the meat. Projectile porks now flew. Buildings smashed in hammered with hams. The giant turned muscles working to hurl a fat pig in my direction. There was no finesse in the throw, the pig was sent aloft through brute strength alone. The animal was released, sent tumbling through the air. You could see the terror in the animals eyes as it hurtled through the air. The pig collided with the stone work next to me, brick and pig mixed into a splatter no one should have to recall. Coated with this combination I stood stunned as the giant looked my way. It gazed at me confused as if I was not supposed to exist. It dropped its armloads of squealing pork and ran. The pigs ran with it and away from it scattering every which way, confused as I was with its change of course. As the dust finally settled we could finally view the destruction.
The towns people spent the remainder of that day dealing with the damaged property and the few remaining pigs. We rebuilt the town cleaned up the mess and moved on but not entirely. I have never like ham, not since that day.