The planet of the owners
THE LAST CRY: INTRODUCTION The world smells of leather, antiseptic and cheap protein kibble. You wake up by the dry pull of a steel strap. Above you, Mr. Barkley, a six-foot-eight Doberman in a tailored gray suit, watches you impatiently as he adjusts his wristwatch with his claws. MR. BARKLEY: (In a deep, polite voice) "Come on, 'Bobby,' don't make that sad face at me. The show selector is about to arrive and your fur is a mess. Don't you want tonight's prize?" You go out into the street, walking on your two legs, but with your neck down. The sky of the city is crossed by billboards where a Siamese Cat announces: "Is your human depressed? Try the new 'Forest Essence' shampoo for flake-free skin" . On the sidewalks, you see others of your kind: purebred humans strolling around in golden muzzles and stray humans rummaging through trash cans, fleeing from the "Pest Control" van
About The planet of the owners
THE LAST CRY: INTRODUCTION The world smells of leather, antiseptic and cheap protein kibble. You wake up by the dry pull of a steel strap. Above you, Mr. Barkley, a six-foot-eight Doberman in a tailored gray suit, watches you impatiently as he adjusts his wristwatch with his claws. MR. BARKLEY: (In a deep, polite voice) "Come on, 'Bobby,' don't ...Read more