The Baron was meant for better things, of this he was certain.
Some Barons were hawking pizza, true, but Baron Von Hanta had intended for his life to reach beyond processed foodstuffs.
How he now found himself both as a kind of food as well as closely related to stuff(ing) was beyond his control.
He’d been born into a life of privilege, made of only the finest polyester and faux fur available on the cat toy market. His carefully embroidered nose and eyes, along with his solidly stitched-cleaved feet, ensured that he would be desirable for those looking for such a creature as he. His delicate pink ears and tail were of the finest low-grade, paper-thin suede.
No toy could compare!
How he could now find himself from the safety of a plastic package to being tossed to and fro about the floor, fully at the whims of a brutish cat, was beyond him.
And now, the insult had reached a fever pitch; he was splitting his seams. He was revealing his inmost secrets.
Like some cheap and tacky alien autopsy, his innards were beginning to leak out.
Was there no dignity left for him anywhere?!
Hours of delight he’d provided, his realistic rodent appearance causing more than one house guest to mildly start and then laugh. “That toy looks real!” they’d proclaim, his own inner shame at being considered a mere toy hidden beneath his stoic interior.
Had anyone any idea what it was liked to be pummeled, thrown, whipped, squashed, and repeatedly mauled by sharp little teeth every day? His only consolation, sometimes, was that he wasn’t filled with catnip. He’d heard stories of such things…horrifying details of torn limbs and being drawn and quartered.
The latest indignity visited upon his ever-weakening will to live was being thrown willy-nilly into the plate glass window, where the cat, intently focused on the birds feeding just on the other side, would leap in a nervous state at the sound of his impact. Angry that the birds were not coming through the glass, the beast would pounce on him and nearly devour him.
“I am delicately stitched!” the Baron wanted to cry out. But he couldn’t cry. He had no moisture inside. Just stuffing.
And he was starting to lose that. The rich inner life he had treasured for so long was seeping away…
Help save Baron Von Hanta. Spare him from further indignities.
Take Action!
- Buy Brutus a new toy and spare the Baron. Donate to the cause of Baron Von Hanta.
- Download your own poster here, and spread the word: Rally the troops. Save the Baron.
A rodent named von Hanta? Is that some sort of viral marketing?
–See Dubya
This is so J Peterman. I love it.
J Peterman, eh?
That is the best comment I could hope for.
Fabulous. Thank you.