In the intervening days, Poor Piggy, her virtue thus soiled, has continued her miserable journey into yarny degradation of the worst kind.
Oh, the horror our fallen heroine has felt by the prick of rapier-sharp thorns of Hell, euphemistically described as "vegetable matter" by those evil purveyors of Noro smut.
I cannot begin to describe, Dear Reader, the agony of it all. It is simply beyond the realm of decency.
And yet -- gird yourself -- Piggy, now enslaved, knits on. Nay, verily: she has cast on twice more, with two additional sets of needles, in order to get the thing right. And has actually produced fabric:
Can Piggy be saved? Time shall tell.