Tuesday: One Prize Per Pig

Tuesday · October 27, 2026

Tuesday began with an ambitious vacation plan.

“Just gonna chill and hope for no disasters today,” Shanna told Jerry. “I gotta become the fifth pig member!”

Behind a nearby palm tree, Blue lowered his clipboard.

“She’s applying again.”

“Does she have qualifications?” Yellow asked.

“She survived yesterday.”

“So did the suitcase,” Red said. “Eventually.”

Their multicolored companion nodded. “Put her down as pending.”

Shanna was still officially a colorless snot nose pig. Nobody had explained the membership requirements, mostly because the pigs hadn’t agreed on them.

The resort’s weather department consisted of a coconut.

Shanna sent a picture of the wooden sign explaining the system: coconut moving meant wind, coconut wet meant rain, coconut gone meant hurricane.

Blue studied it carefully.

“Finally. Equipment we understand.”

Back in Pennsylvania, Jerry sent an actual weather report, complete with temperatures and rain predictions. He also sent a video of a deer passing his house.

Shanna wanted Jerry to tell the deer hello.

Yellow leaned toward the phone. “That Pennsylvania pig has very long legs.”

“That’s a deer,” Blue said.

“Does it know?”

Before they could investigate, thunder rolled across the resort.

The coconut became wet.

“The forecast is working!” Red shouted.

Shanna filmed the rain, turned the camera toward herself, and pushed out her bottom lip.

“It’s raining.”

Then she inspected her face on the screen.

“I look weird.”

Red inspected his reflection in a puddle. A green drip hung from his snout.

“Nobody here is qualified to judge.”

Angie’s shoes had produced blisters, so she had adopted a more advanced form of vacation footwear: soft hotel slippers.

“Excellent,” Yellow said. “She’s dressed for an emergency nap.”

Earlier, Jerry had teased her about Mexico, since Angie had initially thought that was where they were vacationing.

Now the pigs were nervous.

“Are we sure we’re in the right country?” Red asked.

Blue pointed at the rain.

“That coconut is Dominican. I checked.”

Across the pool, Shanna sent Jerry a picture with a challenge:

Find the Bug.

Bug was Angie’s nickname. Jerry zoomed in, circled her in yellow, and sent it back.

“Bingo,” Shanna replied.

Blue looked impressed.

“He located her from Pennsylvania.”

“He had a yellow circle,” Yellow said. “Professional equipment.”

Rain moved the afternoon into the lobby.

Angie had eaten enough that a nap sounded reasonable. Instead, a resort worker came over with UNO cards while Shanna was getting a drink.

Shanna returned. Another worker joined them. Eventually, Skip-Bo entered the discussion.

The Pig Patrol assembled beneath the table.

“Are we playing?” Red whispered.

“No,” Blue said. “We’re observing international relations.”

Shanna won.

Then she won again.

Under the table, Yellow offered Red a consolation gummy bear. Red had not been playing.

Angie was not especially delighted.

“Bug was annoyed,” Shanna reported to Jerry.

Yellow watched another card land.

“Perhaps the fifth-pig application should include a sportsmanship interview.”

“For Shanna?”

“For everyone within reach of that table.”

Bingo began at four-thirty.

Angie arrived in her slippers, ready for competition.

The pigs admired the colorful markers.

“Blue. Yellow. Red,” their multicolored companion whispered. “This game understands us.”

Then Angie called:

“BINGO!”

She won a bag of coffee.

Blue stood so quickly he bumped his head beneath the table.

“Bug has secured supplies!”

Shanna, meanwhile, had cleared her board—a decision that immediately became part of Angie’s report to Jerry.

Then Angie called bingo again.

Unfortunately, each person could win only once.

Her second claim was turned down.

Red looked scandalized. “They should announce these things before someone becomes talented.”

“They probably did,” Blue said.

Angie still had the coffee. That was the part she wanted remembered.

Only three people won prizes, and she was one of them.

She settled back into her slippers with the quiet satisfaction of somebody who would be mentioning this later.

Back in the room, another group of vacationers waited among the luggage: Ruffalo the buffalo, Joey the monkey, and Ronaldo the capybara.

When Shanna returned to the room, she found someone new sitting in the open suitcase: a bright green monkey, perched above the other stuffed travelers.

“Came back to the room and this green guy was in here,” she reported.

Blue stared at the newcomer. “We’ve got a green one.”

“A green snot nose pig?” Yellow whispered.

“A monkey,” said Red.

“Are you sure? He’s already made himself comfortable in the luggage.”

The green monkey said nothing. Joey, Ruffalo, and Ronaldo offered no explanation either. The Pig Patrol added mysterious suitcase visitor to its report.

Jerry required a little help sorting out the names.

Blue understood.

“We’ve been traveling with a pig who answers to three colors.”

Later, Shanna said she hadn’t seen any pigs that day. Maybe they were afraid of the rain.

Jerry suggested she could have looked in the mirror.

“Ur rude.”

Blue reached for his clipboard.

“Family communication remains normal.”

When Jerry called her a blue snot nose pig, Shanna corrected him.

“I thought I was a colorless pig?”

Even during a tropical vacation, accurate records mattered.

Then Mark temporarily disappeared from view.

Jerry suggested he might have gone down the creepy stairs from yesterday.

“Wasn’t that creepy?” Shanna replied. “It’s a bathroom.”

The Pig Patrol froze.

Their suspected underground headquarters was a restroom.

Blue quietly crossed out SECRET LAIR.

Yellow leaned over.

“What are you writing instead?”

“Occupied.”

Dinner was Italian, at a restaurant Angie called “Portigino.”

“You mean Portofino?” Jerry asked.

“I suppose.”

Shanna received a beef appetizer she didn’t like. Angie described it as “beef something,” which did very little to clear things up.

Four snouts appeared just above table level.

“Small portions,” Yellow whispered.

“Big plates,” Red replied.

Angie, meanwhile, announced:

“I am eating like a PIG.”

Blue nearly dropped his pencil.

“Another applicant.”

Earlier, a picture of pig-shaped baked treats had already alarmed the patrol. Before baking, they were adorable. After baking, they looked as though they’d received unexpected news.

The pigs had agreed to avoid the kitchen.

Dessert, however, required further investigation.

Angie’s feet still hurt, but her slippers were soft and comfy.

Then came tiramisu.

Her message to Jerry was brief and enthusiastic.

Blue closed the day’s report.

“Rain. Cards. Coffee. Slippers. Dessert.”

“And no disasters,” Yellow added.

From the other side of the table, Red watched Angie enjoy another bite.

“What about Shanna becoming the fifth pig?”

“Still pending.”

Far away in Pennsylvania, Jerry’s phone waited for the next reply.

The old family game was still going.

Only now it had international coverage.

And slippers.

To be continued…