Hamtard: Volume Three Lemme tell ya'll about Hamtard and share my wonderful stories about her. I work with Rampaging Boudicca, and everything is true. She does reset every night, it's something out of a romantic comedy, if she were attractive and thin, and had a personality. But alas, we don't live in this wonderful universe.  Hamtard is...an enigma,it will stare deep into the depths of your soul with a lifeless gaze, the same a pug gives when you smack them in the back of the head, bulging orbs threatening to pop right out. It's head looks to be birthed from a mound of earth, you know the kind, the ones where their neck is gone and their shoulders just a single slab of blubber. It smells, god awful, we're often asked if HT wears hair gel, no hun's, it's just because Hammy doesn't practice decent basic hygiene.  The last day I worked with it, itmanaged to cut her hand on a rubber bin while washing it. How? We don't know. But damned if HT didn't. It's very good at spilling plates, refusing to carry anything with both hands, always one, on the tip of a paper plate, shaking violently as it watches it like a flimsy bomb. Gasped and wide eyed. It spilled green beans on one of our girls, "It didn't get on you!" Yes, yes it did, all over her back and legs and shoes, it proceeded to wipe her down with paper napkins, leaving rolled paper bits all over her back. It spills plates all the time, whole trays of food, devoid of the ability to problem solve in simple degrees like holding something with two hands.  Sunday we had to teach it how to mop, again. Teach it to take orders, again. Teach it to stack dishes, again. I'm surprised it could even manage to put on a bandage. I'm full convinced it was a testtube babe, created in a lab, the first human pig hybrid allowed to be raised in a human household, to assimilate. Think about it, other cross breeds are usually sterile, why not HT? It all makes perfect sense. Come SAturday we work with it again, more stories are sure to come.