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"Fancy thinking the Beast…"

Commercials: Pepsi is not really making a compelling case for its inclusion in my lifestyle by implying that P. Diddy and Carson Daly are big fans of its product.

When we come back from commercials, Sawyer's evidently having another nightmare based on his childhood trauma, but the pair of legs walking toward the bed morphs into four trotters, and the boar snorts as the voice whispers, "It'll come back around again." The whispering voice is fairly unimaginative and humorless. Why not mess with Sawyer by whispering, "Some pig"? Or so long as we're working the themes of civilization and savagery as embodied by symbolic pigs, why not go with: "There isn't anyone to help you. Only me. And I'm the Beast… Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! …You knew, didn’t you? I'm part of you? Close, close, close! I'm the reason why it's no go? Why things are the way they are?" The gunshot rings out, and Kate wakes Sawyer up.

As Sawyer wakes up more completely, he sees that the boar's wrecked his pack. He shouts, "It ate all our stuff!" and Kate helpfully corrects him with, "Nope. It ate all your stuff. Mine's fine." Instead of snapping, "Well, now do you believe me about this pig's grudge?" Sawyer fulminates on the ways in which he'll make the boar suffer. He hears a rustling in the bushes, runs for his gun…

…And out pops Locke, who's looking pretty blasé for someone who's got a gun pointed in his general direction by the one guy on the island we know has terrible aim. "What happened to your campsite?" he asks. Kate rolls her eyes, which lets us transition into everyone sitting around a boiling teakettle on the fire. Kate asks what Locke's doing out so far, and he tells her he's looking for salvageable debris. He picked up their trail, and figured he'd be sociable. This is about the time when Sawyer discovers that the boar pissed on his formerly-clean shirt. And now it finally occurs to him to tell Kate, "And you say this ain't personal." Kate tells Locke dismissively, "He thinks the boar we're after has a vendetta against him." "Ah-huh," Locke says neutrally. Kate suggests that maybe the boar's just averse to whatever cologne Sawyer's wearing. So he's a Drakkar guy, is what you're saying? Sawyer blusters some more, and Kate insists that the pig's not holding a grudge.

"My sister Jeannie died when I was a boy," Locke interrupts, mildly. He serves coffee as he talks: "She fell off the monkey bars and broke her neck. And my mother -- well, my foster mother -- she blamed herself, of course. Thought she wasn't watching close enough. So she stopped eating, stopped sleeping. The neighbors started talking -- afraid she might do something to herself, I guess. Anyway, about six months after Jeannie's funeral, this golden retriever comes padding up our driveway, comes into our house, sits down on the floor, right in front of my mother there on the couch. And my mother looked back at the dog. After about a minute of this, them both staring at each other, my mother...burst into tears. Beautiful dog -- no tags, no collar, healthy and sweet. The dog slept in Jeannie's old room on Jeannie's old bed, and stayed with us until my mother passed five years later. Then -- disappeared, back to wherever it was she came from in the first place."

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