Pig In A Blanket (part II)

   Pork Fillingsworth is a moderately successful investment banker.  Normally during the afternoon he would be at work, sitting behind his desk making money for his clients and, in doing so, himself. Today, however, he had spent the afternoon on an exam table at the local VetStop. His neighbor, Mrs. Furter, fearful that he might have come down with Hog Cholera, had insisted he come in and get checked out. She had been nice enough to give him a ride in her car and sat in the waiting room, worrying the entire time about the diagnosis. Pork hadn't been surprised when the doctor came in and told him it was just the swine flu and that there was nothing to worry about, he just needed to keep hydrated and get plenty of rest. On the way home Mrs. Furter stopped at a pharmacy to buy both Day- and Ny- Quil, along with chamomile tea and saltines. Waiting in the parking lot, nestled in the comfort of the 1965 Chrysler New Yorker Town Sedan, all he just wanted was to get home, crawl back into bed with his cat, Applesauce, and burrow as deep as he could into his blanket.