“Feed me the good stuff!” he demanded. “I’m sick of these dry, round excuses for food.” He put his heart into his request, but the guy in charge smiled and said, “Aren’t you cute?” Fred’s blood boiled.
“Must ... resist ... urge to destroy,” he fumed silently. “I WILL find a way to ditch pellets and join my idols at a beer company to spread better diets to my kind. Never surrender.”
Hey--life as a ferret ain’t easy.