MR FARNSWORTH by James Hancock (2nd place, Flash, Aug24)

The pig sucked in a mouthful of pipe smoke and blew it overhead. It clung to the ceiling like a cloud of rolling white music notes, twisting and changing shape as Ophelia watched from the comfort of the leather sofa.

“Interesting.” The pig, Mr Farnsworth, gazed at his folded trotters as he contemplated things.

Ophelia waited, staring at the orange glow from the pipe’s bowl, as Mr Farnsworth drew in a rounded cheek of smoke and puffed it through circular pink lips.

“Are you even inhaling?” Ophelia asked, becoming impatient and dragging Mr Farnsworth from deliberation.

“Hmm?” He scratched his snout and rested the pipe on the arm of his chair. “Tis a thing to enhance thought, m’lady. Not for gratification by means of lung and blood stimulus.”

Ophelia considered his reply. An attempt to sound like a particularly clever piggy. “Then why bother?” she asked.

“Why bother with anything? Why bother having your nails done or hair curled this afternoon? All that, just for a meeting with a particularly clever piggy.” Mr Farnsworth raised an eyebrow to emphasise he knew more than he’d let on. And he was a talking pig, so he’d already let on quite a bit. “Why answer my phone call and come here at all?” he added.

Ophelia took a moment to reflect on his choice of words. Was he reading her mind? The only thing for it was to test the pig.

“Why are you so interested in my late father? You haven’t spoken in years…”

“You sink to the depths of testing me, Lady Ophelia?” Mr Farnsworth cut in and opened his eyes to a wide stare. “I shall happily play along. Ask of me what you will.”

“You said you were friends with my father. You knew him from his circus days, and that he… err… trained you.”

“All true. But that’s not a question.” Mr Farnsworth leaned forward in his chair. “You want to know what I want with you. Why I made the call.”

“Can you read minds? There’s a question for you.”

“I can do many things, Lady Ophelia. I can predict, analyse, observe, and evaluate.”

“I think you’re wasting my time.” Ophelia stood up. “And because I think that, you already knew I was about to leave.”

“I can evaluate the diamonds.”

Ophelia stopped on her way to the door. Her mind brought up the image of a black leather case with velvet inlay and a pouch revealing a hundred twinkling… “What diamonds?” She shook her head and gave a nervous laugh, quickly making her way through the door and slamming it shut whilst desperately blocking out thoughts of her father’s safe.

Mr Farnsworth prodded the pipe’s embers back to life and sucked quick puffs as smoke began to form and rise once more.

The door to the back room opened and Dave hurried in. “Well? Did you get it?”

“Indeed, my friend.” Mr Farnsworth grinned. “Left, nineteen. Right, seven. Left twenty-five. Click!”

Dave smiled. “Clever piggy.”