For all it's worth you throw your arms up and start to punch wildly, your legs kick and flail beneath you, your torso bucks back and forth, and the giant hawk begins to falter in it's desperate struggle to keep balanced. Behind you the talons twist and clench tightly upon your shirt-- Your shirt! That's the only thing the hawk's really holding, if you can get it off...
You reach back and pull at the torn fabric in the shoulders, already distressed the material offers little resistance. There's a wrenching sensation below your fingers, an abrupt jerk, and suddenly your shirtless and free falling.
The gap between you and the ground is closing quickly, but the earth that's rushing up to greet you is the soft, muddy variety, populated with what appears to be some exceptionally large pigs. Good, your on mark... though as you zoom towards your muddy fate you start to realise that the pigs in this sty are unbeliveably fat.
Your just a couple of seconds from landing in amongst the prodigious porkers. Now you shield your face, close your eyes, and land....
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