The Cursor and the Crown
“Slingshot me,” Red said.
“Did we win?” Matilda asked.
It had been blinking for thirty seconds.
Chuck was vibrating—literally. His triangular form was glitching, flickering between super-speed and a frozen, pixelated statue. “I can’t help it, Red! The bottom screen is buzzing. Something’s wrong with the physics .”
It wasn't a bird, nor a pig. It was a translucent, purple outline of the DS stylus tip, dragging itself across the background like a lost soul. It could flick blocks out of the way, tap pigs into a daze, and—most terrifyingly—rewind time by three seconds.
The pigs on the far side of the level seemed to notice, too. Corporal Pig, wearing a tiny green helmet, pointed a trotter at the sky. “Look, sir! The parallax is off! We can cheat!”
The birds had one chance. The King Pig sat atop the fortress, wearing a crown that flickered like bad code. He wasn't even looking at them. He was staring at the bottom screen, mesmerized by the glitching stylus.
“I said NOW.”