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Yep. Same old Shel, underneath her tempting new assets. I only wish her little fit helped me get my head screwed on tight enough to ignore said assets.
Other people arrive, swarming us like bees, and unlike her, I don’t care who’s listening.
“Think the egg sucking started the minute you blew back into town, lady,” I growl.
“Whatevs. Pig saved. Mission accomplished. I’m leaving.” She pivots on one mud-covered white tennis shoe and starts marching away.
Hercules grunts and starts following.
“Herc, no!” I shout after him.
The pig stops for a split second and gives me a look that’s too human. As if to say, You think I’ll just up and start taking orders today, funny man?
I stare back, silently letting him know he’ll be pork chops, ham, and sausage for the next year in my freezer if he doesn’t listen.
I’d never truly butcher him, but I can’t let him know. He’s already ornery and proud enough.
“Better give her a ride home so she can take a shower,” Marty says. “Sorry about the interruption, man. We kinda blew the big finish for you.”
Interruption? It was a hell of a lot more than that.
After what just happened, the show’s toast. It might be the last one of the year, even, with autumn in full swing, but I can’t blame Marty for that.
Can’t even blame Herc or Shel.
This bullheaded pig has a terrible habit of jailbreaking his pen, and she was just out to save his crazy butt.
“There was only one heat left and a bus to stomp,” I say with a sigh. “No big loss. We’ll make it up to folks at the next rally.”
Marty slaps my shoulder again.
“Well, sorry again. Sucks to leave everybody with blue balls. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I tell him.
He takes off jogging to catch up with Shel, yelling “Wait up!” after her.
While I play catch-up with the wonder pig, Shel hurls me a final screw-you glare over one shoulder, her reddish curls rippling in the wind.
I should look the hell away. Avert my eyes. Every glance feels like staring directly into the sun.
Instead, I blow her a kiss, just to piss her off more.
The way she flips her head back around and shakes it with disbelief tells me it worked.
Some things never change.
I just wish this jousting was all in good fun like it used to be.
While I’m lost in my head, Hercules arrives at my side with a disinterested grunt that makes me roll my eyes.
“Don’t even start, drama king,” I warn him.
His next grunt sounds like exasperation.
I didn’t know pigs could sigh.
On the other hand, I know exactly how he feels and push the air from my own lungs.
