Thursday: Honeymoons, Fattening Coffee, and Green Ears

Thursday · October 29, 2026

Thursday began with a case of mistaken identity.

At breakfast, a server stopped at a nearby table and asked two women whether they were on their honeymoon.

They were not. They were mother and daughter.

Angie watched the whole thing from her table and delivered her review to Jerry: “Never a dull moment.”

Blue quietly closed his guest directory. “New patrol rule. Nobody guess anyone’s relationship before breakfast.”

The sky was cloudy but dry. Angie had gone to bed around eleven after the band and dancing. She’d had fun and wasn’t tired.

Yesterday’s coffee hadn’t impressed her. The coffee house was another matter.

“Fattening coffee,” she clarified.

Yellow’s ears went straight up.

Then Jerry asked the big question: what were the plans for today?

“I have no clue. I just follow.”

Blue looked down at the blank page where the day’s itinerary was supposed to go. He wrote FOLLOW at the top, underlined it, and decided that counted as a plan.

Shanna eventually checked in with Jerry.

“Just woke up. Needed sleepies!”

Then came a development the patrol had not expected her to report herself.

“I actually have snot dripping out of my nose! Ur story is coming true! 🐽”

Jerry asked if she’d eaten any pig since arriving. Bacon, perhaps?

“I ate bacon at the airport Sunday!”

“Ah that explains it.”

Rainbow lowered the clipboard. “She’s reported the symptoms herself.”

“And the airport bacon?” Red asked.

“We’re handling that internally.”

Not long after, a picture arrived from the pool deck.

“Back out in the sun on an egg chair.”

There were Angie’s feet, stretched out comfortably on the cushion of a big wicker egg chair. Beside her sat a cup of coffee.

The Pig Patrol recognized that chair. On Wednesday, Angie had waited for dinner in an egg chair big enough to stretch out in. In last night’s dream, a giant one had flown everybody out of a cow bingo hall.

Blue walked around it twice, checking for scorch marks. “No signs of overnight flight activity.”

Yellow had climbed up beside the cup and was peering inside.

“Is that coffee,” he asked, “or dessert?”

“Yes,” said Blue.

Then the pool deck got wonderfully quiet, and Angie headed for the beach.

Jerry checked in: was it windy, and had she encountered any more birds, monkeys, or pigs?

Red ducked behind a cushion. “Why does he always ask that?”

Angie’s answer covered the important parts. “A little windy. But peaceful.”

And: “Swinging on the swing by my lonesome.”

She had a rope swing facing the ocean all to herself, but getting a picture required somebody else. She held out her phone. People kept walking.

Yellow tried to help. Hooves were not ideal for photography. He managed fourteen pictures of his snout.

Fortunately, Angie assumed she had covered the lens with her thumb.

Finally, a kind lady stopped and asked if she could help.

“Yes, yes, yes,” said Angie.

And that’s how the picture of Angie on the swing, with the ocean behind her, came to exist.

Blue wrote it down: Photo obtained. Cost: $0. Parrots: not required.

By noon, the family had moved on to the shops.

“I spent ALL MY MONEY. LOL”

After spotting a Dominican Brinks truck, Angie announced, “Omg. I ran.”

Jerry suggested asking for a withdrawal.

“I don’t want shot.”

Then a navigation question meant for Shanna arrived on Jerry’s phone: “Left or right?”

Before Pennsylvania could offer directions, Angie corrected herself: “Wrong person. I was lost.”

Jerry asked if she’d had her eyes open.

“Nope.”

Red tried walking with a hoof over his eyes. He found a planter.

Lunch was where things took a turn.

Shanna doesn’t usually eat lunch. Today she had a cheesesteak and fries.

Yellow smelled the cheesesteak. “Pennsylvania room service has finally arrived.”

Angie sent a photo of Shanna leaning in over the fries, fully committed.

“She is eating like a snot nose pig,” Angie wrote.

“She looks like a snot nose pig,” Jerry replied.

The patrol exchanged a long look. On Tuesday, it had been Angie announcing, “I am eating like a PIG.” Now she was reporting it about her daughter.

Later, a group started playing music, and one of the songs was “Twist and Shout.”

Angie got up and danced.

Shanna and Mark did not.

“Why didn’t they dance?” Jerry asked.

“Snot nose pig ate too much,” Angie explained. “Mark won’t.”

Jerry had information. “He did in his kitchen.”

“Yep.”

Blue flipped to a very old page. “Cape Coral. Shanna and Mark’s kitchen. ‘Twist and Shout.’ Mark, Shanna, and Angie, all dancing. Witnesses: three.”

“So he can dance,” said Yellow.

“He just won’t do it in public,” said Red. “Kitchen dancer. Very exclusive.”

On Wednesday night, Shanna had danced while Angie watched. On Thursday, the roles reversed. Angie danced while Shanna sat it out.

She wasn’t entirely alone, though. Four invisible pigs twisted beside her, badly and with enthusiasm. Blue kept time with his clipboard.

After lunch, Shanna took her traditional once-per-vacation nap—first on the beach, then dozing by the pool.

“Yesterday she was bored,” Yellow said. “Then dancing. Now this.”

Red studied her. “The cheesesteak has a sleep button.”

Mark, meanwhile, saw an opportunity. While Shanna dozed on a golden towel by the pool, two big green leaves ended up standing upright behind her head.

He sent the picture to the family group chat with a report:

“Her nose is running in the morning and now she’s growing green ears. She’s turning into a snot nose pig 🐽”

Shanna’s other brother, John, took one look at the Island Hopper Songwriter Fest shirt she was wearing and offered his own assessment: “Looks more like an island snoozer than an island hopper…..”

Jerry thought the leaves looked like bunny ears. “Wonder if they’re real?”

Mark supplied old movie clips—IT’S ALIVE!—and a running commentary: “It’s mutating.” Then: “It’s hungry again 😫”

“Feed it so it doesn’t get grouchy,” Jerry advised.

Angie sent a picture of whipped cream and caramel piled on coffee. Fattening coffee, round two. Her verdict on Shanna: “She ate too much for lunch.”

Over at the pool, the Pig Patrol had gone completely silent.

Blue’s pencil had stopped moving.

“A runny nose,” he whispered. “Green ears.”

On Monday, Rainbow had said Shanna hadn’t earned her colors yet. Nobody had established how she was supposed to do it.

Now here she was, asleep in the sun, with a runny nose and green ears.

“Green,” Blue said. “Her first color.”

“She’s earning them,” whispered the rainbow pig, a hoof over his heart.

“Or,” said Red, “it’s two leaves.”

Nobody listened to Red.

“Nobody tell her,” said Blue. “It might wake up.”

The afternoon carried on at the pool, where Angie suddenly started laughing. She was remembering Monday, when the umbrella came down on Mark.

Mark reported that his back still hurt.

Red, who had been leaning on an umbrella, stepped away from it very slowly with his hooves raised.

“Not me,” he whispered. “Not this time.”

One more happy note: Angie wore her sneakers today. On Tuesday, her blisters had her shuffling around in hotel slippers.

That evening, Jerry got his mom on the phone.

It was hot, she said. They’d been lucky, too. Only one day of rain all week.

Then Angie mentioned a problem. They had been getting bitten by bugs at night.

Blue wrote it down carefully, then stopped.

“Wait. The Bug reports being bitten by bugs.”

Yellow gasped. “Rival bugs?”

“Unauthorized bugs,” said Blue. “Shanna only approved one.”

After Wednesday’s bargain jewelry, Angie was considering selling it on the beach herself.

“From customer to vendor in two days,” Red said. “That’s a career.”

A cigar seller had already shown her what not to do: she didn’t smoke, and she didn’t know anyone to give cigars to. He kept trying anyway.

Yellow proposed a gummy-bear stand. “I understand my customer.”

“You are your customer,” Red said.

Before the call ended, Shanna got on the phone too. She had a confession.

She felt like Jerry and John were there, spying on their vacation.

“You never know,” said Jerry.

Four invisible pigs froze in place.

Blue slowly slid his clipboard behind his back. Yellow stopped chewing. Red hid behind a potted plant that was considerably smaller than Red.

The rainbow pig leaned in and whispered, very quietly: “She’s getting closer.”

At 7:38 that evening, a new photo arrived. Angie stood beside a pool table holding a cue stick, giving a big thumbs-up. Mark stood next to her holding a cue of his own, studying the situation.

“I won 2 games,” Angie announced.

Then, as if nothing unusual had happened: “What’s going on”

Jerry needed details. Two games of pool? Who did she play?

“Mark.”

“I believe you,” Jerry replied.

“Bingo and now pool,” Yellow said. “She’s collecting victories.”

“Is there a one-prize-per-guest rule for pool?” Yellow asked.

“Not that anyone announced,” said Blue. “So both wins count.”

“He’s still photogenic,” Red offered.

“It’s a gift,” said Blue. “Pool is apparently not.”

There was headphone fun that night, too. Asked about the picture the next day, Angie’s verdict was simple: “It was so fun.” Jerry’s reporting department was still waiting for an explanation of the headphones.

Then Angie mentioned one last thing.

Tomorrow was her last day. She planned to get to the beach early.

Blue looked at the morning’s itinerary page, the one with FOLLOW written across the top. It turned out Angie had a plan after all.

He turned to a fresh page and wrote FRIDAY. Underneath it, very small, he added a second line: Shanna: one color earned. Last chance for the rest.

Yellow set an alarm. Then he asked if breakfast came before the beach or after.

Red volunteered for night patrol. Nobody was going to bite the Bug on his watch. He took up his post on the egg chair with a tiny swatter.

By midnight, Red was asleep on the egg chair, swatter still in hoof.

Somewhere in the dark, very faintly, something beeped.