The story of Pig M. Eon is similar to Pygmalion. In the ancient myth, Pygmalion is a sculptor who creates the most beautiful sculptures. Unfortunately, he cannot find a lady that he loves. One day, he makes the most beautiful sculpture of a woman, that he wishes it were alive so that he and it would be in love with each other. The goddess Venus, hears his request and decides to make it come true. They live happily ever after. Like Pygmalion, Pig M. Eon is skilled at creating things, as he is a mad scientist. But he has no friend to bask in the glory with. So he decides to make one, like Pygmalion's sculpture. They have fun, and for a funny twist at the end, it turns out that Mr. Pig Male Eon didn't create his friend at all, he just hired one. :/

The eagle comes again today,
When the sun is highest in the sky.
Beads of sweat roll down my face,
Stinging my immortal eyes.

Every time I hear his piercing screech, he spreads his deadly talons wide,
I think about my one mistake,
That makes him attack my side.
I blessed them with this gift & immediately they abused it.
From cooking food to killing each other;
I regret it all.

I should’ve left them in the dark, the only fire they need is from the Sun.
It’s too late now; I’ve made my mistake,
What’s done is done.

I wince in pain, the eagle gives no mercy.
I continue to regret my decision.
I close my eyes as I listen to the tearing of my flesh,
I hear the bellow of flames in the earth below me,
I hear the screams of man below.

They kill themselves.

I open my eyes,
and watch the eagle's proud plumage
carry him to the horizon with my liver.
I see my blood gushing,
a rushing crimson river

It slows to a trickle & my wound heals.
I take a deep breath as I wait for the sun
& the eagle’s terrorizing squeals.

 Sundiata was the son of a king, but unlike other boys, he couldn't walk. After years of humiliation, he and his mother lived in a little hut, away from everyone so she wouldn't have to be ridiculed all of the time. Sundiata was content with his life, and was ignorant to his mother's harassment ans frustration. One day, a rude woman was making fun of Sundiata and his mother, and he heard this. When Sundiata found out that hi mother felt embarrassed by him, he decided to do something about it. He stood up and walked past a crowd of people with the aid of an iron bar, ripped a tree out of the ground, and set it in front of his mother's hut, so she wouldn't have to walk to go & get leaves from the tree. Sundiata proved every person wrong about his condition, and because he did that, he was respected. I found a story similar to this, in a Sports Illustrated magazine. It is about a boy who was born paralyzed, just like Sundiata. One day, he saw boys running a charity race & told his father that he wanted to do the same. Out of determination, his father decided that he would carry his son through a race. That was many decades ago. The father & son have been running marathons, triathlons, and races ever since. Dick says he does this, so that he can give his son Rick, the feeling of being a normal boy. Rick Hoyt, is similar to Sundiata because he has defeated the odds, despite what doctors and family have said to him and
*****
June 20, 2005

Strongest Dad In The World Rick Reilly

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.

But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day.

Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.

"He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life," Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. "Put him in an institution."

But the Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. "No way," Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain."

"Tell him a joke," Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.

Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? "Go Bruins!" And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, "Dad, I want to do that."


Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described "porker" who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. "Then it was me who was handicapped," Dick says. "I was sore for two weeks."

That day changed Rick's life. "Dad," he typed, "when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!"

And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

"No way," Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?"

How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.

Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? "No way," he says. Dick does it purely for "the awesome feeling" he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

"No question about it," Rick types. "My dad is the Father of the Century."


And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. "If you hadn't been in such great shape," one doctor told him, "you probably would've died 15 years ago."

So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.

"The thing I'd most like," Rick types, "is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once."

 To see a photo gallery of Dick and Rick Hoyt, go to SI.com/teamhoyt. If you have a comment for Rick Reilly, send it to [email protected].