In many ways the whole city had been deformed by the disastrous influence of a similar such pig, former mayor Napoleon Herbert. The violence, corruption, and unrest of that period had had far-reaching consequences. That pig’s influence had been so damaging that elements of the city charter were rewritten to guard against anyone like him ever taking control again. Many pigs still carried a feeling of collective guilt and shame when it came to Herbert. It had taken much work on the part of the pig community to repair relations with their fellow creatures. Many pigs were quite polite and self-effacing, still apologetic after so many generations, even though the living pigs couldn’t be held responsible for the violence of their ancestors.

But there were others, like Old Spots, who went out of their way to be insufferable assholes. Or perhaps, in the case of Old Spots, being an asshole just came naturally.

The pig pushed the door open. “You busy?”

“Yes…”

“Oh, good.”

“No, I mean, I was…” Hum. There was no point in fighting it. This interaction was under the pig’s control. “So, what can I do for you today, Lenny?”

“My buddy heard there’s a big building development in the works, and that there might be some protests or something. I wondered if you, as a fellow swimmer, knew anything.”

“I haven’t heard.”

“I thought you were friends with the waves.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” The pig winked, mimicked blowing bubbles. “Blub blub blub.”

Old Spots was a bit anti-llama. The pig also held a dim view of birds, was squirrel skeptical, critical of both cats and rabbits, and openly anti-rat. Well, he was anti-everyone. Though Mitchell tried to push back, it wasn’t about making sense. “But, Lenny,” he would say, “goats have lived everywhere—they’re in Europe, they’re in the Americas, in Asia; they’re so ancient they’re on the zodiac.”

“Exactly,” the pig would squeal. “The zodiac! All those shifty zodiac animals. Thank you. Thanks for making my point for me.”

That was the kind of logic Mitchell had to contend with. Comparatively, though, it was nothing. This generalized bias against the animals he lived among was practically love compared to Old Spots’s feelings about the ocean.

Mitchell tried to stay polite. “Is that all?”

It never was, with Old Spots.

“I heard the building is going to be made out of reflective glass so that no one can see inside. It won’t have floors, but they’ll make it seem like it does.”

Mitchell couldn’t stop himself. “How would that even work?”

“From outside, the building will appear normal. It’ll have a door-like rectangle in front, and what appears to be different levels going up and up, but all that’s a false front. Inside will be its true structure. If you know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”