Brenda Smith heard her daughter squeal, and shrugged. She understood the words, but they made no sense to her like that. Oh, well. Pigs were supposed to be smart animals, but bless her heart Jennifer was never that sharp and being a hog wasn't going to make things any better.
She opened the door, and closed it behind her. She turned to regard her not-so-little piggy, standing upright--she was leaning on the fence, maybe more than she woud have as a girl--and watching her.
Jen's porcine face was no longer expressive, but she couldn't help but feel there was something disturbingly calculating about the look
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP Heavy footsteps tore down the stairs, and Carl Smith ran up to his wife.
"Brenda? Brenda?" He sprinted up to her, out of breath. "I heard what she said. Are you...are you okay?" He tilted her head to look into her eyes. "You're all right, right?"
"Carl?" Brenda tried to keep her husband's fear from becoming infectious. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, that's right." He shook his head, as though finally recognizing a great mistake. "You're not from Glendale, you don't know..."
"Carl, you're scaring me."
"Bren, you have to go back out there and answer her. Now. Before it's--"
"TOO LAAAAEEEEEEEETE!" Their daughter's voice was barely human now, a terrible shriek."YOO GET BO'H!"
Brenda Smith froze, her eyes wide in horror. She still didn't understand, but she _knew_ something terrible was about to happen.
"FOR DAAAARE," Jen squealed. "CUM BAK, TRAN'FORM 'R DARE ME BA'H TO A GIRR'"
She still didn't get it. But her hands moved on her own. And her feet moved.
"Brenda!" Her husband called out as she pulled away. "Don't!"
Of course there was no stopping it.
Back in the pen, her thoughts still clearer than her speech, Jennifer pondered what to do with her mother's transformation...