I scamper to and fro across yonder grey sea of Shagge Carpett, searching with mine beady eye for the smallest of morsels.
Hearken hither, and prithee turn thy eyes to my frenetic antics, turn thine eyes to the edge of ye glass table, and watch me lean further, yea, further, and fall to plop most basely to the floor.
Jubilation! I have procured a grain of corm. Two grains, three! Mine cheek pouches swell as the sumptuous victuals fill them until like balloons they dost appear.
Behold, for I art a Hamstere.
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