We still haven’t reached the end of the SWAG. Inside the ugly green bag is a soft canvas tote bag emblazoned with a friendly sheep. Sigyn is smitten.
Oooo! The sheep on the bag is holding a tote bag with a sheep holding a tote bag, with a teenier sheep holding an even teenier tote bag! Et cetera, ad infinitum. How very recursive.
There’s something else soft and cloth-y down there, too. I think it… Yes, it’s a T-shirt. Size Enormous, just right for the human female. Sigyn is trying to imitate the Science Ninjas on the front.
Hold on–There’s something rustling around right down at the very bottom! Something alive!
Fandral’s mustache! Who’d have guessed? A stout, soft, squeezable swine, a veritable pudgy prince among porcine playmates.
Sigyn has named him Percy, and–ugh! Sigyn! Don’t kiss the piggy!
You kiss ME with that mouth! Eewwww…
That’s it. I think we’re done with SWAG here. Let’s stuff all the junky literature back into the hideous tote and carry off our booty.
We can negotiate later whether the pig is going to be a pet or pancetta…