Wolf, his fur glossy and his eyes glinting, scans the crowd and basks in the adulation of his guests. He saunters past the spit, leaning in close to the pig, his sharp teeth bared in a smug grin.
"Tonight, we feast! And tomorrow, I nap. You, my little trussed friend, shall be the star of the show," he purrs, swirling his drink.
The pig, Percy, eyes wide and bristling with fear, struggles against the ropes, his snout twitching at the scent of roasting pineapples and smoke.
Petunia, the eldest sibling, signals with a determined nod. Pip, wiry and jittery, clutches a pair of garden shears, while Pammy, the youngest, quietly sets out a trail of apple slices leading toward the fire.
"Remember—swift and squeal-free. Percy’s counting on us," whispers Petunia, her jaw set.
The three slip into the party, weaving between distracted guests and using the noise as cover.
Pip[/@ch_4] snips the ropes, Pammy distracts the wolf with a clumsy hula, and Petunia ushers Percy off the spit. Suspense hangs thick as the wolf’s attention drifts back toward the fire.]
"What’s all this commotion? Who invited the entertainment?" the wolf drawls, only half-watching the hula.
"O great Wolf, we offer a dance in your honor! And a massage, perhaps? You must be so tense from all this hosting," Pammy chirps, sweat beading at her brow.
Percy slips free, his family enveloping him in a quick, tight embrace, relief flooding their faces.
"Ahh, nothing like a piggy spa after a feast," Wolf sighs, tail wagging lazily.
"Of course, you deserve only the best treatment," Petunia whispers, lathering his back with pineapple glaze.
"Just relax while we... exfoliate," Pip grins, flicking open the razor with a flourish.
The pigs begin to shave Wolf with brisk efficiency, exchanging triumphant winks.
"Wait—hold on! You’re not making ME the main course, are you? This is a joke—a little piggy prank, yes?" Wolf stammers, voice wavering.
"Oh, it’s no joke. You wanted a feast—now it’s truly a celebration," Percy says, his voice low and resolute.
"Don’t worry, we’ll use plenty of apple slices," Pammy chirps, giggling as she brushes marinade across the wolf’s haunches.
"And we promise to keep you nice and crispy," Pip adds, twirling a skewer.
"To family—and to never underestimating a pig’s resourcefulness," Petunia declares, her eyes bright.
The siblings dig into the feast, savoring pineapple and roast vegetables, while the wolf’s whimpers fade into the night. The moon, full and watchful, shines down on their victory—a tale to be told at many piggy luaus to come.
