The Terror of Piggington,NSB

[Mattitude]

Howdy y'all! I'm new to the forums, and an avid fan of this game. Sadly, not a very good writer, but i had to write this short story inspired by a recent play through. Wilson is our beloved protagonist, so of course we're rooting for him. But he is player controlled, and not all players are very nice to the piggies. This is told from their point of view. More to come if anyone likes it. Criticism would be appreciated.

The following is an excerpt from the diary of one Septimus piggsly, considered "too much thinker" by his brethren pigs. He has the uncanny freak ability of being literate. This is his story.

Dear Journal,

a horror has come to our sweet little village. There are so few of us left. But i'll start at the start.

My brother Severus and i moved down here from north baconia, having been exiled by the king due to Severus chowing down into the royal buffet.

Life in South Baconia is simple, no one to rule over us, food is plentiful, there are no beefalo to steal what is ours. The only downside is living near several spider dens. We hide in our houses at night, but sometimes have to fend them off at dawn. It was starting to become a problem, until he arrived. Wilson. That name will haunt me to the end of my days.

He came to us a stranger, helping out around the village, gifting us with snacks, building us homes, helping fight off the spiders, even removing our poop! He even gave porkins a hat! While suspicious at first, we eventually came to like the helpful monkey man, and in exchange for meat, , we visited his campsite and helped him collect wood for his fire. For reasons he wouldn't disclose, he would only accept a few of us to accompany him at a time. He claimed we were too greedy, and he did not have enough food for all. We didn't question it. What fools we were.

Lately, alot of pigs have been going to wilsons campsite, but always less of them return. He has stopped bringing us vegetables to eat, but seems to have an enormous surplus of meat. So far i have refused, something just seems wrong about it, though i can't tell why. When I asked about it, he said that the pigs helping him out have given him plenty of time to hunt.

I asked my compatriots what they think of our missing brothers, But the only answer i receive is "STOP THUNKING. HOME TIME!!" or just a blank stare. We wake up each morning, less of us every day, and they don't even question it. It's like they don't even remember that there used to be more of us!! They gladly accept the meat, wander off with wilson, and don't think twice about where all this meat is coming from. The other pigs say its' taste is strangely familiar, but they cannot place it. Wilson looks at us strangely sometimes, but maybe that's just the way monkeymen look. Severus went along with the group to wilsons' camp last time, he hasn't returned. I'm starting to worry.

A later entry

Something has changed about Wilson. What once i mistook for an eccentric twinkle in his eye i now see for a gleam of madness. Something feral lurks within those haunted eyes above that unruly beard. He constantly writes notes about us on that strange thin bark and mutters about "the crock pot". I asked him about my brother, but he told me with a savage grin that he was "busy helping feed the town". I'll write more tomorrow. the sun is disappearing. I wonder where it goes?

Tragedy has struck. There are four of us left. We awoke to find our houses smashed to pieces. Wilson was standing in the middle of it all, holding a large stone tied to a stick. "It was the Krampus!" He yelled, pointing to a red horned figure lying prone next to a sack, "He came here to steal your stuff, and i tried to fight him off, but he ruined everything!"

(Now bear in mind, the krampii have NEVER attacked us peace loving pigs. Why would he have a reason to now?) There were no signs of my dead brothers, but at least Wilson seemed to have brought Some supplies. "Come with me" Wilson told us, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small smile. "I have plenty of meat." He reached into his backpack, pulled out several fresh pieces, and gave them to us. He gazed at each one of us, his smile widening. "plenty of fresh meat to last"

"MEAT!" my comrades yelled. "YOU HAS MEAT! YOU GOOD!" My house was ruined. I had no food, i was so hungry, and it was already lunchtime (time seems to fly sometimes). With a resigned sigh, I tentatively took a bite. The taste was indescribable, I'd never had meat before. Hurriedly gobbling down the rest of the meat, I looked longingly at his backpack. That meat is delicious. I would follow this man to the ends of the world take on any creature even betray my own kind, just for one more taste. Little did i know, but that was exactly what Wilson had planned....