I am the promise of aggression. I am the tightly coiled muscles of expectance. I am the extended claws and the bared teeth of instinct. If it can’t be felt in the flesh, it is an annoyance to be overlooked with distain. The movement of the metal, the chattering voices of those that pass me by, they are all below my notice.

There are few things that merit my attentions.

It is at the zenith of the hot summer sun that it comes. I am lying on my side, letting the liquid warmth wash over my calico fur as I listen in silence to the rush of the city.

It is carried above the smell of rot, exhaust and dirt, an exclamation that sends my skin crawling. A deep growl pulls from my throat and nothing else is needed. There is another male in my world. Even in passing, this is unforgivable.

I stretch, arching my spine until the blood pounds back in to my relaxed muscles. Easy - such an easy grace, all fluid and flexing. In a quick heartbeat, I am awake and away. Ready.

Movements are distracting and this corner of my world is filled with the moving constructs of metal and the busy rushing of rubber heels. I learned at a young age to stay clear of scents that are not familiar, to hug the shadows of places that are not marked as my own.

I am an old hand at curving myself against the cool shaded walls and brushing the tight corners. Quicker than a thought, I am on the trail of the interloper.

He moves fast but I move faster. We clash together in fur and fang, claws hooking deep under skin and ripping, catching. I scream my frustration in a long hiss that spits saliva in his fur and I smell his hesitation heartbeats before he scatters.

I don't bother with the chase; the moment he and his stink leave my world, it fades to the back of my tense muscles.

Yawning, I lick the soft pads of my paws before slinking back to my resting spot in the warm reaches of the sun.

A tiny wood mouse snuffled along the foundation of an old dilapidated shed, oblivious to the pair of unblinking eyes trained upon it. Aurata crept through the undergrowth, painfully aware of how her creamy brown fur stuck out against the dark foliage. She silently weaved her way around a holly bush, her gaze locked on the unfortunate creature. The mouse was but a few feet away, and Aurata could smell its sweet, woodsy scent. Her prey paused to pick up a seed under a dried flower head. She watched as it held the food in its neat little paws, daintily nibbling at the husk to get at the food inside. It looked up one last time, and flicked its head back down. Aurata gathered her weight on her haunches, and crouched low to the ground. You’re almost a full-grown cat now, she reminded herself, not a kitten anymore. Suddenly, she flew out of her hiding spot, and landed on the mouse with a light thud. Its dying shriek was quickly done away with a bite to the neck. Aurata backed away, and bowed low to the tiny carcass, her whiskers brushing the mossy earth. She paused, her mouth watering from the overwhelmingly delicious smell of the mouse. Finally, the respect ritual finished, she picked up her kill, and trotted out of the shadow of the building.

She rounded the corner of the shed, and saw her best friend, Temminick, sunning himself in the fragile morning rays. He flicked his ears in greeting, and stood up. Aurata padded over, her tail held high.
“Would you like to share?” she mumbled around the mouthful.
A grin crept across his face. “Of course I would! Thanks.”
The two cats crouched together beside the mouse, and eagerly gobbled it down. The warm, freshly caught food warmed Aurata’s bones, which were still stiff and cold from the night. She sat down and began to wash herself.
“So when is your ceremony?” Temminick queried, lying back down in the sun again.
“Which one?”
“Independence.”
Aurata smiled at the thought of the ceremony. “It should be soon, I’m hoping by winter.”
“So you want to spend the first blizzard of winter alone in a den? I think I would still want to be with my Mum for that,” he said playfully, eying Aurata with a questioning gaze.
“Well, I don’t have to be alone, I just don’t have to be with her. Sleeping in the den every night is crowded, between my mother and two siblings. And–”
Temminick scrambled to his feet.
“What is it?”
“The farmer’s dog! He’s coming around the side of the shed, run!”

Without hesitating, Aurata dashed off toward the clump of trees on the other side of the meadow, Temminick at her side. She looked back. The dog was streaking over the grass toward them, ears pricked up.
“Hurry up! He’s getting closer!” she wailed.

The dog was nearly at their heels now, and Aurata almost choked on the thick, sour odor of its breath. She took a flying leap, and dug her long, sharp claws into the bark of a young maple tree. She couldn’t see where Temminick was, but she clawed her way up the trunk anyway.

Once she reached the branches, she turned around, breathing heavily. The dog was staring into the bushes at the base of the tree, its entire body tense. Aurata leaned over to get a better look, and gasped. Temminick was hissing furiously at the base of the tree, every hair on his dark gray pelt on end. One of his hind legs stuck out at a funny angle, and had a trickle of blood oozing out of it. Aurata took a deep breath, and leaped out of the tree, claws extended. She landed right on the dog’s back, and she ripped out paw full after paw full of fur. She sliced deep gashes into the powerful muscles in the dog’s shoulder as it yelped in pain. She let out a ferocious yowl, and lept down, hissing after the dog. It raced back over the field, its black and white fur glistening red with sticky blood.

Aurata rushed over to her friend, who was panting heavily, his side heaving up and down.
“Thank you,” he said, closing his eyes to slits in pure exhaustion, “You saved me.”
Aurata smiled, and tended to his wounds. The leg was not broken, but the dog had cut a deep gash in the muscle. It would take time to heal.
“This needs herbs,” she said, eyeing up the torn flesh, “I’ll go try and find some. Try your best to sleep. I’ll be back soon.”
Temminick slowly nodded, and Aurata dashed off into the woods in search of healing herbs.

Today a game hunter shot a dart into my rump. I had just run the fastest race of my life with Kudu, my brother, chasing a sprightly little Thomson’s gazelle, when zing … in it went. It stung like He...ck. I was furious, because I’d lost my ‘ready to eat’ meal. My mouth was still watering from the thought of that lovely tender meat … but I could feel myself getting very woozy, and before long I was asleep.

When I awoke, I was in a cage on the back of a truck. Those truck drivers don’t care about the welfare of their passengers at all! I was being thrown from one side of the cage to the other as they rumbled along the dirt tracks out of the bundu.

Now, we cheetahs cannot roar, but we do some pretty impressive growling, hissing and spitting noises that tend to scare the average human, so I pulled out all the stops and gave it my best shot. I growled and hissed my disapproval in the strongest possible terms, but it made not an iota of difference to the men in the truck cabin. Humans don’t rate us animals as equals. We don’t have feelings. We don’t suffer like they do. Purleese! Give me a break! If only they knew how ridiculously self-important they looked to us. They strut around and proclaim themselves the highest intelligence … huh! Don’t make me laugh.

There was a chimpanzee named Tuktuk in the next cage and his language was deepest darkest blue. He screamed blue blurry murder at the shoddy driving … but he was most incensed about being taken from his mate just after she’d given birth. He felt he should be there for her, and he was being very vocal about it. Since they’d obviously been to the forested area, as well as being out on the plains, these men had clearly had a shopping list of which animals they wanted. I’d heard stories of places where animals were caged for life and that was not going to happen to me if I could help it.

It was when the driver reached a particularly rough piece of ground that Tuktuk’s cage door flew open. At first he leapt out and was about to jump down onto the red earth beneath, but he suddenly stopped and looked back. He then ran to my cage and opened it for me. We then both leapt from the truck just as the driver reached a corner - thus having to slow down. Luckily there was a clump of bush just where we descended, so we hid in it until the truck was out of sight.

We worked out that Tuktuk had been picked up in the same area as me, so I suggested he jump on my back and I’d give him a lift home. I ran like the clappers, I can tell you. Tuktuk hung on to my neck for dear life, whooping all the time as I ran … leapt … nay, sprinted, for dear life back home. We both agreed that I had made a much better time covering the distance than the driver had.

I dropped Tuktuk off at a clearing of trees. He recognised them and said he could call out from there and get his bearings on the rest of the group.

Well, now I was truly pooped. Our kind only get up a real speed when there’s hunting to be done. We’re not really long distance sprinters.

It didn’t take me long to find Kudu. He’s the laziest cheetah in the world, but I put up with him because he’s the second in our coalition; also, he’s my brother. He’d simply gone back to base and sprayed it … as if that keeps humans at bay! Did I mention stupid as well? He said he’d moped for a while, but he hadn’t let it affect his appetite. He was hungry and he had to eat, so there was no time to worry about me. He had eventually settled for an injured baby impala, which had got separated from the herd. He complained that he’d only had four bites of it before a pride of lions usurped the kill – so what’s new? Still, I think he was glad to see me.

My kind have been captured before. There are instances, I know, of cub cheetahs being tamed by men, but only to an extent. It wouldn’t do to turn your back on them. You might have noticed that I don’t rate the human race too highly … and I’d advise any one of them game hunter, dart shooting, Neanderthals never to turn their back on me …ever! I may look benign, but I’m wild.

And after today, I’m wild as Hades!

“Are they gone yet?”
“Yeah, they just closed the gate. Give ‘em five more minutes to get to the cars!”
“Awesome!”

Five minutes later, a small clawed hand reached out and used a key to open a gate. A small army descended from the trees, holding keys and opening various cages. There was a general commotion as over a hundred residents made their way to the zoo’s center to hold their monthly meeting.

Tixit took his place at the head of the congenial mob. His tail twitched as he paced up and down his favorite tree limb. After a few moments he “Ah’ emed” the murmuring crowd into silence. He started the meeting by asking Kayl what he thought he was doing?!

Kayl looked at Tixit and roared back,” What are you talking about?”

Tixit, not to be out done stuck out his chest and ripped back, “You know exactly what I am talking about! That little kid with the balloon last week! What, you think he wouldn’t notice?”

Kayl had the decency to be mildly abashed and lowered his head slightly shading his amber eyes with chestnut mane and said in a sulky voice. “I wouldn’t have really done it. It’s just he was there and it was there and he got so close to the cage, I could have. I mean come on it was screaming ‘EAT ME!’ You know what a freak I am for those!”

Tixit shushed him and said, “We know all about your passion for balloons but can’t you see how that would have looked to him seeing you clawing at his balloon! That could have been a one way vet trip!”

“Fala, it has come to our attention that you have been mimicking the visitors! You can’t be caught doing that! Do you have any idea how bad it would be if those arrogant humans ever figured us out? We would loose our cushy homes and be experimented on.” Tixit slammed his paw into his outstretched palm for added emphasis.

Fala, looking back could only grin and complain, “The chimps do it all the time!”

Tixit did a double take and screamed, “Yeah, but the silly humans think that’s funny. If they saw a full grown brown bear acting like that, they would be beside themselves!”

“Ok, well moving along. Geta what’s the situation at the infirmary?”

Geta lowered her long neck and addressed the small crowd, “Thomas’ surgery went well and I am sorry to report that all hoofed stock will be getting a visit from the Farrier next Tuesday.”

“Ok, Hubbard, have you any new information on the rainforest remodel?”

“Harrumph, ok, yes, the remodel. They are going to start the bird round up next week. They will be caged inside the warehouse with the monkeys until the end of the month. The new watering system and misters will take 3 weeks to install.” The ancient tortoise glancing sideways went back to absently chewing on a low hanging bush.

Tixit thought hard about this for a moment, his bushy tail flicking busily in time with his mental dialogue. Finally, he said,” Ok, We can’t make this too easy on them. If you all just line up and enter the moving crates they are sure to get curious. If a human comes at you, give them a little run for their money. Don’t be nasty though.” With that Tixit eyed Bumbly. “That means no bombing runs at the keeper’s heads this time!”

Bumbly looking about winked back at Tixit and said, “No promises, mate. A bird’s gotta do what a bird’s gotta do.” Tixit’s tail flicked at that and he moved his attention back to the crowd.

"I have also heard that ‘someone’ thought it would be funny to add humans to the menu in the snack shop. Sometimes I wonder if you all just want to get caught! Three weeks ago, Joe hid a keeper’s cell phone in his pouch, and then tried to call his mom in Adelaide. I can’t stress enough how bad it would be if we ever got found out!” Tixit eyed the crowd.

I didn’t want to bring this up but my observers have found that there’ve been several black vans parked outside the zoo over the past two weeks. I fear that some of the humans may be getting a little too close for comfort. That said; keep your eyes and ears open until we meet again. Meeting adjourned”

There was a general shuffling as creatures returned to their exhibits and where locked in again, each key carrying squirrel racing off to bury their key until next time. No one noticed the parabolic dish disappear back into a black van as it slowly backed down a maintenance road.

Aww, a new day! I awaken to distant, disturbing noise. My sister Sabrina and I scamper (if great danes scamper) to the glass door, and find tiny Bitzy trying to lick the door open. Let me try! Now that’s the ticket, a BIG dripping pink tongue. I gotta get outside to those strange noises. My human Mommy is letting us out. The deep woofs are a great release.

Uh-oh. Here comes the man, bigger than me and Sabrina put together, and he has a newspaper in his paw. He’s making loud noises at Mommy, motioning at the glass door. Can we help it if when we lick, we drool. He’s chasing Sabrina, swinging the paper at her. I shrink, as I usually do, behind a sloping grove of trees. After a long time, it is safe to emerge. I sniff fear on Sabrina. Mommy is crying, it is my job to comfort her. I lope to her, lick salty tears from her sweet face, keeping watch for mean man. He is in mechanical thing, and it takes him away. Good.

I watch from a distance Mommy crying with Sabrina, making sounds like “new home.” We don’t understand, but earnestly listen. Slowly, sadly she shuffles to her room, and we curl, curl, down, down to sleep.

Bitzy the Yorkie tells us Mommy’s talking “ad” at that thing that makes loud rings. Maybe Bitzy serves a purpose after all. I lick her a bath, and ask what “ad” is, but she only groans with pleasure at her bath, and falls to sleep on my leg.

Excitement fills a new day. Mommy is brushing Sabrina and me. My black and white are shiny. Sabrina’s fawn coat shines as I bathe her. Mommy is quiet, distant, and sits in the front room before a window, watching.

We climb on the couch, and no one protests. Curious.

I wake to mad woofs! Sabrina alerts to humans in the house; I hide. Sabrina pushes herself onto the strangers, then runs to me, speaking in whoogy that all is friendly. I slowly approach and sniff a warm human hand extended. I lick, tasting instant love.

This new human woman across the room is overwhelmed and now sitting down now in Mommy’s white chair. I snuggle into her lap. She softly giggles, making sounds: “a lot of dog.”

Human utterances were followed by the hook of a leash, and I am led to a new mechanical thing. I see patting on a seat, and jump into the machine. The new humans also get in; we are moving. I glance at Mommy, Sabrina and Bitzy, silently watching. On unfamiliar roads, I whine.

Finally, it stops. The human woman gets out, and opens a door for me, beckoning with her hand. I climb down and follow into a large yellow box. I am shown the yard, the water bowl, and a food dish. Exploring everything, it is all too much, so I curl, curl, down, down to sleep. When I awake, I cautiously ease into a large room of couches and a box making motions and sounds. I lie down before the box, and notice the man’s vibes are kind, and there are two smaller man humans patting my back. I am lonely for Mommy and Sabrina. Bitzy would even look good to me now. Silently crying, my head down on my paws, I gather into myself as small as possible. Quietly, slowly the woman human slithers down on the soft floor near me, and extends that warm love hand to me, stroking my black and white softly. I feel the unmistakable love force again, and fall into comforted sleep.

I sense this woman is ill. I fall in love with her, and she obviously needs me, always by my side.

After a span of time, I find a deep bond with this new family, and this new Mommy is healing. I am adored by these humans. When they leave the yellow box, I lower my head to help myself to bread and butter left on the kitchen table, and chomp it down. I fear I will be hurt because I made a bad. So I punish myself, and wait outside on poo hill. They return, quietly chuckle, and love me more.

As I continue to live within these yellow walls, I realize, my Mommy set me free to save me, so that I might live without abuse.

Thank you, Mommy. You will be in my heart always. I will love forever Sabrina and Bitzy, and will see you all again, all in Dog God’s time.

Left outside once again in the slippery iced over grass of winter. The sun is giving off a pathetic amount of heat and the sky is again bright white and featureless. In this world, it’s a case of graze or freeze. The young ones aren’t so young any more and often a lone mother can be heard from one end of the field calling to her young who has wandered off again in search of a short lived independence. None of us elders have the heart to tell them what will happen come next winter. Imagine, being classed as old at the tender age of two! We barely see our children reach adulthood before the van comes. That wretched van! We can never tell whether it’ll just be taking us off to another field, or taking us away forever. Occasionally a human or two will pass. The youngsters calling out, trying to coax us towards the fence so they can feed us handfuls of grass from our own field; or if you’re really lucky they’ll have a random peppermint in those odd things they wear on their bodies. Coats I think they’re called. But that doesn’t matter; it’s not as if I’ll ever have the chance to try one on.

Standing here with nothing to do but graze and dream. Dream of the warmer days when the sun belted down upon your back warm and comforting, the air smelling like fresh grass and manure from those strong males, just waiting to give you the baby you have always wanted to produce. But of course you have always wanted your own baby, that’s how they raise you, produce you, brainwash you into producing as many of your own kind so they have more to eat.

Can you imagine a life being lived so after only two years you can be eaten by as little as six being from another species? What am I saying? Of course you don’t. You’re human. You could own the world if you wanted to. I’m just a lonely cow. I’m almost two years old. I’ve seen the cycle twice over now. I’ve had babies, I’ve given twice my body weight in milk to humans, I’ve grazed all my life and now I’m about the right weight. The van will be coming for me soon. I’m for the slaughter I am. I will cost you £16 at the most with some vegetables, gravy and a mint for after. My two years of life brought to an end, for £14 and a tip. You think your steak still costs too much for you?

FADE IN:

INT – HAMSTER CAGE – DAY

MOZART – a hamster with a purple Mohawk runs on his wheel.

The wheel spins at a dangerous speed. Mozart keeps running; breathing heavy and coughing.

SPOT - a sinister looking Siamese feline peeks up from the floor as she throws a ball of yarn across the room.

INT – LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Plenty of plants adorn the room.

SPOT:
This toy’s boring; it sucks. I wish I had a wheel.

MOZART:
At least you’re not in a jail. Be thankful.

SPOT:
Yeah…whatever… you have a cool name too.

Mozart stops running, heads to the cage door; grabbing the bars in a panic.

MOZART:
I wish I were out of here – able to run…to be free. I wanna go to Disneyland …go to Europe, maybe Paris.

SPOT:
That sounds like a devious plan…

Spot walks around the table where the cage sits.

SPOT:
…I like the idea.

MOZART:
You want my wheel…let’s make a trade. You break me out…I give you my wheel.

SPOT:
OK.

Spot bounces upon the table, yanks at the cage door.

SPOT:
It’s locked. I can’t budge it.

MOZART:
Come on…give some effort…hurry up…before anybody catches us.

Spot reaches for a spoon, jams it between the cage door and the catch. Spot forces all her strength to pop the door.

Finally after lots of effort; the door springs open.

Mozart runs out of the cage in a burst of happiness.

MOZART:
Sweeeeet...

Mozart high-fives Spot; does a jig.

A DOORKNOB begins to open. The sound of LAUGHTER is heard nearby.

Spot freezes, spins around in fear.

SPOT:
Somebody’s here.

MOZART:
Hurry up. Grab the wheel…GO!

Spot grabs the wheel, but in a rush – pulls down the cage as he bounds off the table.

The cage crashes to the ground. Mozart and Spot look at each other.

SPOT:
Oops!

MOZART:
What are we gonna do?

Spot shrugs his head.

MOZART:
Just great…

SPOT:
I got an idea…

Suddenly the front door swings open.

KATHERINE – 30, red haired woman walks through the door. Stops in mid-step, drops her mug as coffee spills across the floor.

CUT TO:
MOZART’S POV

Katherine’s eyes widen. They scurry across the floor.

BACK TO:
INT – LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS

SPOT:
Run!!!!!

MOZART:
I am…but I’m tired…I’ve been running all day.

SPOT:
Look. She left the door open!

They run towards the door, but Katherine’s swift moves quickly block the door and slam it shut.

MOZART:
We are so in trouble. Thanks Spot.

SPOT:
It was your idea.

Mozart runs under a couch. Spot follows.

Katherine chases Spot – grabs her tail and slides her across the carpet.

SPOT:
Oh no….

MOZART:
I’ll save you.

Spot keeps clawing the carpet, ripping it to shreds with her paws.

Mozart runs across the room, jumps onto a shelf, knocks over a row of books as they scatter across the ground.

Katherine spins around in a daze.

Mozart jumps onto the telephone, hits speaker, begins dialing a long distance number.

Katherine reaches for the phone as Mozart runs away with it in his mouth.

Spot breaks free. She bounces onto the piano, running across the keys – making a very irritating song.

Katherine is going crazy as the two animals create havoc.

MOZART:
It’s working. She’s going nuts.

SPOT:
Yeah – it’s so funny.

Katherine rushes to save the fishbowl as Spot knocks it off the shelf with her tail.

The fishbowl crashes to the floor.

The GOLDFISH begins flapping around.

GOLDFISH:
I’m gonna diiiiiiieeeeee……

Spot rushes to the window, pushes the flowerpot aside and undoes the latch. The window slides up.

MOZART:
What about him?

SPOT:
What about him? It’s either him or us…

Mozart freezes, not knowing what to do…looking at the open window and at Goldfish – flapping about.

Mozart quickly snaps up Goldfish by his tail, races to the kitchen.

INT – KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS
Stacks of dishes are piled on the counter. A maze of ceramic, plastic and glass.

Mozart weaves through two weeks of dishes, looking over his shoulder.

Mozart jumps to the kitchen sink as Katherine chases after him.

Mozart throws Goldfish into the water – looks to Katherine - closing in on him.

She takes a chef’s knife, swings it at Mozart’s tail – missing.

MOZART:
That was close.

CUT TO:
SPOT waiting impatiently at the open window.

SPOT:
Anytime you wanna leave…I’m waiting.

BACK TO:
INT – KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

Mozart skids across the counter; heads to the stove…twists the knobs of the burner and drags a towel across the grills.

Flames shoot up from the stove burners, engulfing the towel as Mozart pours cooking oil across the kitchen.

The kitchen becomes embroiled in fire.

Katherine grabs a pot, fills it with water from the sink; tosses it to the flames.

Mozart jumps off the table, heads to the living room.

Spot waits at the window.

SPOT:
It’s now or never buddy.

MOZART:
Let’s do it.

Mozart climbs up the table; stops at the window. He takes a deep breath, looks around.

MOZART:
FREEDOM – FINALLY!!!

Once upon a time there was a family of turkeys. They were a very normal family; except for the part that the mother and the father were assassins. They had 2 kids, one boy and one girl. The boy’s name was Gobble Gobble and the girl’s was Gabble Gobble. The mother, Mrs. Gobble, was a very beautiful lady which was perfect for her occupation. She could make whoever she prayed upon do whatever she wanted, do the cha-cha or run 100m on 2 hands or wings or paws, depends. Mr. Gobble on the other hand was the ugliest, fattest, biggest, and most repulsive turkey ever. He was the type of turkey you would see in the movies, where the victim would be in the shower and the murderer would suddenly appear and cut the victim’s throat. That’s how scary he was. Most of the times he didn’t even do anything, the victims died from just looking at him! However Gobble junior and Gabble were the exact opposite. They both hated violence and were the most peaceful turkeys on the planet. Gobble was in the peace club of his school and Gabble was in the “How to fluff up your Turkey-Barbie’s feathers” club. They of course didn’t know their parents job, according to them Mr. and Mrs. Gobble work in a feather salon.
Anyway one day the Gobble parents had an important assignment. It was going to be the assassination of the century. The client’s target was a human. The client, Mr. Quack-Quack, despised a specific human, because his daughter ended up in an old washed out Chinese restaurant as a delicious, mouth-watering peeking duck thanks to him. Their job was to wipe out the human and his whole family and of course anyone who gets in their way. Their plan was to throw a sleeping bomb threw a window for them to fall unconscious. After they would take them to a room for interrogation, but as you may have guessed it wouldn’t be a normal FBI interrogation and there they would kill them. However as you must have guessed it didn’t go that way. The human, Mr. Yao Ming, was expecting them. Don’t ask me how, because I don’t have a clue. Anyway, he was waiting for them and when they came he was ready. He had borrowed from a friend an old bazooka M9 to defend himself. As I mentioned above they were supposed to throw a sleeping bomb, but conviently forgot it so they were forced to improvise. Their improvisation was to just barge in and blow up Mr. Ming’s brains. However like I said Mr. Ming was waiting and when the Gobbles entered they faced a lovely bazooka M-9. Mr. Ming immediately pulled the trigger, but unfortunately backfired because it was old like I mentioned before. In result, killing him and blasting the 2 turkeys far far away. What happened to the turkeys? They landed in an animal friendly building, the butchers. I don’t know if you have heard of it, but it is a great place. They landed exactly where the butcher was going to kill a hog. So instead of killing the defenseless pig he by mistake killed both the Gobbles. Gobble and Gabble opened up their own salon and named it “Gobble Gobble Gobble Gabble”. However they both died in an accident. Oh well, let’s look on the bright side, the pig is alive!