Grandpa Maxim and the Connection Break. Rural humor.

Grandpa sat at the table, an old laptop covered in banana stickers in front of him. On the screen, the words were frozen: “No internet connection.”

He stared at the text in silence for about ten seconds, as if waiting for it to get scared of his authority and disappear. The text didn’t disappear.

— What are you telling me… — Grandpa muttered and aggressively poked the touchpad. — It was there yesterday.

He leaned toward the screen, tapping it with his knuckle:

— Hey! I was just about to watch how to properly prick out seedlings. Maybe those Chinese knocked down the satellites with brooms? Or did Elon Musk cut it off for non-payment?

Grandpa sighed, reached behind the laptop, felt the white cable, and gave it a light tug to check the contact. The cable came out easily. Suspiciously easily. Grandpa slowly pulled his hand back. He was holding a short, chewed-up piece of wire, with multi-colored strands sticking out like nerves.

Silence hung in the house. Only the old “Dnipro” refrigerator hummed.

Grandpa slowly, like in a horror movie, peeked under the table. There sat Borya the Pig. He looked as innocent as possible. A piece of blue insulation hung from the corner of his mouth like a noodle. The pig chewed rhythmically, looking Grandpa straight in the eye with an honest gaze.

— You… — Grandpa began quietly, his voice trembling. — Are you eating the wire, you scoundrel? You’re not an electrician. You’re lard!

Borya stopped chewing for a moment. He oinked, swallowed, and reached for a new piece.

Then Grandpa snapped. He jumped to his feet, hitting his knee against the table, but felt no pain — adrenaline hit his head.

— Ah, you snouty saboteur! — he yelled at the top of his lungs. — You cut us off from civilization! That’s fiber optics! Light runs through there! Isn’t your stomach glowing?!

Borya realized the negotiations had reached a dead end and sharply backed away, knocking over Grandpa’s slippers.

— Hey, stop! — roared Grandpa, waving the chewed-up cable. — Spit it out! Maybe there’s at least one megabyte left in there! Do you even know how much that cable costs? I’ll turn you into pate and sell you on Viber as soon as I fix the connection!

The pig squealed and dashed into the kitchen, nearly knocking Halya off her feet.

— What’s going on?! — Halya threw her hands up. — Why are you scaring the animal?

— Scaring him?! — Grandpa ran after him, red as a beet. — Halya, he ate the internet! All of it! Along with YouTube and the weather forecast!

He sat heavily on a stool, looking at the scrap in his hands. Anger was slowly moving into the stage of acceptance and engineering thought.

— Halya… — he exhaled. — Bring the electrical tape.

— Which kind?

— Blue! Only blue, black won’t hold here. I’m going to tie knots. They say if you pull it tight enough, the signal will squeeze through.

Grandpa shook his fist toward the entryway where Borya the Pig was hiding.

— And you better pray, you big hog. If it’s not working by evening — you’ll be the one showing the news. In character!

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