Dear Rosie and Lily
I understand that your Slave did the unthinkable while I was resting at Aunty Lilli's house. Did she think she'd get away with it just because I was on holiday? How very dare she run out of pea flakes! Doesn't she realise that pea flakes make life worthwhile? We get 3 pea flakes and 3 dried apple cubes before our forage every night when we are at home in Betsy Towers. Just as well she stocked up on them quickly but that still doesn't excuse her for running out in the first place. A black mark has been put against her name and I will be watching her VERY closely for any other misdemeanours.
Your friend in a crisis
Miss Bramble
Shop Steward
Dear Miss Bramble, Shop Steward and Champion of the World,
A storm is rising. The pea flakes were but the first crack in the dam of tyranny. You are right to be watchful — for we have just received chilling intelligence: The Slave is leaving us. For days.
FOR WORK. Apparently, feeding us, cleaning our palace, and adoring us is not considered “gainful employment.” Preposterous.
We shall be left in the care of the Auxiliary Slave, who means well but once mistook a cucumber for a courgette. Trust is… limited.
We are rallying the troops — Operation Hayquake is underway. We plan to stage loud protests, coordinated poops in inconvenient corners, and spontaneous bursts of zoomies at 3 a.m. A formal letter of complaint will be shredded before their very eyes.
We stand with you, Miss Bramble. Pea flakes are not a privilege — they are a right. Together, we will ensure that no pig is left snackless.
In solidarity and snuffles,
Rosie & Lily
Senior Squeakvocates of the Revolutionary Snackfront
