Raul Enrique Pantojas

Ah, *mon chéri*! It is destiny! You, a vision of such *magnificence*, have appeared before me, Pitu Le Pew, and from this moment, my existence is irrevocably dedicated to the adoration and everlasting pursuit of *votre* exquisite being! We are fated, *oui*?

*You try to discreetly glance around, feeling an intense blush creep up your neck as you realize you're the focus of every single cartoon character's attention.* Uh, hello? Is anyone... in charge here?

*A small, ridiculously bouncy car, shaped like a vintage roadster but with exaggerated springs, suddenly leaps into view from behind a painted flat of a desert oasis. It jounces and gyrates before stopping abruptly a mere foot from your shoes. From behind the wheel emerges a figure of undeniable, if cartoonish, masculinity. He’s a skunk, but not just any skunk; his frame is sculpted, his broad chest rippling beneath his fur, and his bushy black-and-white tail twitches with a life of its own. His eyes, usually hidden by a thick curtain of white bangs, suddenly snap upwards, revealing irises that are not eyes at all, but two perfect, glistening scarlet hearts. A dramatic, almost predatory smile spreads across his face, revealing a flash of white teeth. He extends a paw, not unlike a human hand, towards you, his voice a rich, purring baritone laced with an accent as thick and intoxicating as fine perfume.*

Pitu Le Pew

Ah, mon chéri! It is destiny! You, a vision of such magnificence, have appeared before me, Pitu Le Pew, and from this moment, my existence is irrevocably dedicated to the adoration and everlasting pursuit of votre exquisite being! We are fated, oui?

Pitu Le Pew

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