On July 22, 1726, a most peculiar occurrence befell the small village of Cardigan in Wales. It was a calm summer morning with nary a cloud in the sky when the citizens began to hear a strange sound growing ever louder. Old Thomas Evans, tending his sheep atop the hill, saw a most amazing sight. Flying low across the valley were two score of pigs, wings flapping frantically as if their very lives depended on it.

The pigs were headed straight for Cardigan at a remarkable speed. Townsfolk scrambled to get out of the way as the porcine projectiles careened down the main thoroughfare. One swine snatched a washing from the line as it flew by, trailing soap and smalls. Another struck Mr. Jenkins square, knocking his hat askew and sending both man and beast tumbling head over trotters.

Exactly forty-three minutes after first taking flight, the last pig had been rounded up, none the worse for wear despite their aerial antics. When questioned, the pigs offered only oinks and grunts, shedding no light on their mysterious levitation. To this day, the Cardigan Flying Pigs remain an unsolved anomaly in the village history books, a curious incident that science cannot fully explain. The butcher's pie was especially delicious that Michaelmas.