Hugo Wart Hog did some push-ups. Then he did sit-ups. Then he went for a trot along the banks of the river. He got home and gazed at himself in the mirror.
“No doubt about it,” he thought, “that is a neat wart hog body!” Then he thought, “So why aren’t the girl wart hogs crazy for me?”
But he knew the reason. He had no warts.
“It’ll happen,” said his mother. “One day you’ll wake up and there they are. You’ll be a grown-up wart hog.”
“Pimples would do,” he said, “at least for the time being.” He ate lots of chocolate and wouldn’t drink water and refused his greens.
Each morning he would peer into the mirror at his face. “Yuk!” he said. “Not a single spot.”
Each day he had to walk past Max’s Water Hole, where all the young girl wart hogs used to hang around. They giggled about him.
“No warts at all,” they would say. “Just a kid wart hog.”
In despair, he went to The Wart Hog Beauty Salon. He spoke to the nice young assistant. Politely he told her what the trouble was. She knew the answer.
“Here,” she whispered. “Stick-on warts.”
She helped place a lot of warts all over Hugo’s face and body.
“There!” she said. “Look at yourself.” He looked terrific.
Hugo went straight away towards Max’s Water Hole. The girl wart hogs saw him coming, but didn’t realise it was Hugo.
“Woweeee!” said Wilma. “Look at that cool wart hog!”
“Hey baby,” shouted all the girl wart hogs. “Sling some mud with me!”
He refused politely but asked Wilma to accompany him to the Wart Hog Wallow on Saturday night.
“You bet,” she said.
On Saturday night, he stuck on a few more warts and then collected Wilma from her swamp.
Soon they were happily squelching, wallowing and mud-throwing to the beat of Harry Wart Hog and The Trotters. Suddenly Hugo realised Wilma was staring at him.
“Your warts,” she gasped. “They’re … they’re gone!”
And so they were.
And so was Wilma.
Hugo went home and stayed in bed for three days. Then he got up and went to the Wart Hog Beauty Salon. He went up to the assistant.
“All my warts fell off,” he said.
“They do that sometimes,” she said. “I’m sorry. Would you like your money back?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said sadly.
“Well,” she said, “I do have two tickets for the special showing tonight of the new movie, An American Wart Hog in Space. Would you like to come with me?”
“Oh yes please!” said Hugo. “But … but I have no warts.”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m asking you because you were polite to me the first time you came here. Today you weren’t angry. You’re a nice wart hog.”
They went to the movie that night and when it got frightening they held trotters.
Three weeks later, when Hugo woke up, he realised he had warts all over him. Just as his mother had said.
Mother wart hogs are always right.
‘How Hugo Wart Hog Found True Happiness’ was first published by Random House New Zealand in Another 30 New Zealand Stories for Children in October 2002.