Hey there! My name is Bacon and I’m a pot bellied pig. I’m also a member of the FPI (Federal Pig of Investigation). I’m off for three weeks so I’m off on vacation to Pig Island, situated in Barbados. There’s nothing better than that place. Swimming around in a beautiful green sea for hours on end and getting fed by tourists by showing your cuteness to each and every one of them. Pig Island is the most amazing place for any pig who would want to go on vacation.
I’m leaving now, well, as soon as I make sure I have everything. Toothbrush…check. Toothpaste…check. Passport… check. That was it. Off I went on my bicycle to the airport.
I go around the back and fetch my bike and hop onto it, my eeny weeny legs just about reaching the pedals. I am a cutie! With my backpack on my back with all the necessities in it, I set off on my journey to the airport. “Mommy, why is there a pig riding a bike?” Moaned a little girl, around the age of four to her mum holding her hand and walking beside her. The mother stared at me very weirdly as if a nuclear bomb had been dropped. I had to check just in case. Thank god, there was not. I cycled pass, rolling my eyes as I did. I could see the outline of the airport coming into view.
As I reach the airport, I tie my bike to a pole and hope that no one takes it during the two weeks that I was gone. I did not have enough money to get one of those leads to tie around it! Anyway, who would be so cruel to take a little pigs bike? I walk into the big airport. Boy I love this place!
I walk into a shop and purchase some pretzels and strawberries for the plane. What a lovely combination. “Nice mask!” said the man at the counter. Humans are weird. I give him the money and get on my way. twenty cents that’s is. I sharply exit. The man comes running out of the shop after me, so I run against the crowd to the passport manager. Four legs are quicker than two. He’d lost me by then. “Passport please,” said the man. I present my passport which hasn’t been updated in five years. Unluckily, he notices. “Sir, this passport is out of date. You cannot proceed.” I’m used to this by now. “Oink Oink!” I squeal. The man looks at me like a human normally does when they’re not sure what just happened. “I presume you escaped from quarantine. I’ll ring the manager to put you back in the cage,” he says. Then he looks at the passport and sees my picture. He looks at me once more and faints. Easier said than done. I take my passport and carry on through.
I shop for aftershave in the duty-free. I was about to buy a book about ten easy things to cook until I looked at the contents. How to cook bacon. I instantly put it back. Just then, the intercom announced my flight. Piggy Island, here I come!
I take my seat on the plane, experiencing some weird look from the passengers. A three year old girl started crying when she seen me. Have to admit, it’s not often you see a pig on a plane I guess. I take my phone out of my pocket and take a selfie. Two teenagers behind me start laughing their heads off. I don’t really know what was that funny about it. What’s wrong with a little piggy like me taking a selfie? I’m sure they do it all the time. I upload my selfie onto ‘pigchat’ and get a number of likes from my family within seconds. The plane begins to shake and takes off. I eat my pretzels and strawberries. They were quite nice actually.
The plane finally lands after a four hour flight. I’m the very first off the plane as I am a VIP (very important pig). The Barbados air fills my nostrils.
I take a cab to Pig Island and I finally arrive shortly after. I pay him £1 and get on my way to the beach, shoving my backpack onto the floor and eating the remaining strawberries. I ate all the pretzels on the plane. I run into the beautiful emerald green water. It begins to bubble up. Like a Jacuzzi! “Sorry man, when you gotta go you just gotta go!” Said a pig next to me. There was suddenly an overwhelming smell. I knew it was to good to be true. I get out of the water and sit by a bar and drink some lemonade. I was going to enjoy my two weeks very much.
Your favourite pig,
(I do not own the picture above) 😛
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