The Deal

Date: 5/27/2025

A lot more of this was clear during the dream, and I can actively feel scenes slipping away as I wake up, but here's what was clear from context and what scene(s) I actually remember. A pair of animators are trying to revisit a story they've told before. The last version was fairly popular when they released it, but their style has changed a lot since then and they're not so much on the comedic/shock value blood splatter side of things anymore. They want to tell a story that surprises the audience by its own merit, not just by being really gory and brutal. There's still plenty of implied gore, and the tale they tell was always going to be gory in some way, but it's less splashed on screen now. It's implied where it needs to be implied and shown where it needs to be shown. Professional. The story revolves around a... let's call it a being, because it wasn't really called anything specific in the dream. This being makes deals with people. It was clear ij the dream what people get out of this deal, I think, but I can't remember now. What I do know is what the being receives in exchange. In the original draft, it wasn't communicated very well. After whatever caused the blood-splatter portion of the story was over, people horrifically (at least, the animators intended it to be a mix of horrific and funny) crumbled away into dust. In this new version, the story doesn't stay with humans at all. The story starts, instead, with a feral pig and her piglets. They make their way into the basement of an abandoned building, where they meet the being. I don't remember if the dream showed a deal being made, but it at least showed the being in the same space as the pigs. Maybe that's all it takes. It is clear that the weak, starved human corpses around have been here for awhile. They weren't conjured up by the being's power just for her. Still, she and her piglets will eat. What kind of pig turns down fresh meat? They follow the trail of bodies, eating as they go, and something begins to change. The animation communications this with subtle changes in lighting, color, contrast, sound design. No dialogue is spoken and the pigs don't act distressed, but their pace is slowing even though they haven't managed to eat much at each stop and the audience is watching them eat people yet feeling concerned that they aren't eating enough. It's unsettling, but there's a degree of separation. It's an animation. That keeps it from feeling like a nightmare -- I, in real life, don't get scared at horror movies because I'm busy analyzing what makes them effective or ineffective horror movies. Finally, there's a door that's bigger than any they've had to shove their way through so far. At least some of the audience is meant to pick up on the plot significance of this door, and realize this location is not just the setting for a re-visited short but is thr location their longer and more popular ongoing series is taking place in as of the episode that aired right before this. It's okay if they don't, as far as the animators are concerned, that will become even clearer in a moment. The door looms over the pigs. They hesitate for reasons unknown without dialogue, reasons the audience is invited to guess, then the mother pig lays her body into the door and shoves. The piglets headbutt and help, but it's mostly her efforts that get them in the room. It's a darker room than the rest of the building. There are more corpses than anywhere else the pigs have been, strewn across what look like church pews or maybe just reading benches of some kind. Some are starved and barely have any meat on them, like the rest, others have gunshot wounds. The pigs walk past them. They reach the end of the benches, where a pair who look like characters from early Resident Evil games are arguing in front of the very last corpse. Both living humans are crouched, holding weapons and wary of intruders, talking quietly and sharply and with mutual confusion and anger. Neither notice the pigs. In fact, it feels like the pigs are shielded from being noticed. They step a little closer to the corpse, and there's confusion from them too. It's as if they've forgotten how to do something. Before they can turn around, a doll-sized figure appears behind one of the living humans and peeks over to the pigs. "It's frustrating, isn't it?" she says. The pigs stay to listen, but don't reply. "Here he is, ready to be eaten. He isn't made of metal or glass or plastic," she furrows her brow and closes her hand into a fist, slamming it into the air behind her as she gestures angrily at the corpse, "He's made of nothing but meat! And you don't want to eat him. You don't remember how to want that. And you never will again." The pigs snort, and it's up to the audience to determine whether they understand. "I'm sorry, you're just pigs," she sounds sincere. The pigs turn around and leave the room. Never to have the urge or desire to eat again. The being took that from them. The final scene pans over the doors closing and back to the overarching plot characters, who say something plot significant. That's all I can remember. Until Next I Wander