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Petpet Name: FooFoo Owner: alphachicky Pet Name: Gartshy Breed: Altalaphus About FooFoo: The petpet spotlight is a prestigious honor. To even apply at the petpet spotlight offices, a petpet must be impeccably groomed, incredibly well behaved, and altogether outstanding. Or, you know, their owner snuck past security. Such is likely the case, you suppose, when you arrive at work one day to see a jelly poogle holding an altalapus sitting in your office. There is very little chance, you expect, that they arrived here by following the terms and conditions. Although the poogle seems nice enough, the little altalapus is a mess. As it sits, snuggled into the bend of the poogle's arm, it eyes you with a vacant gaze. This wouldn't be so off-putting, if not for the fact that its mouth is open, drooling at an incredible rate, and panting in happiness. Already dry drool forms a crusty layer over the altalapus's rumpled stomach feathers. At least it looks happy? "Hi!" The poogle brightly introduces herself. "I'm Gartshy, and this is my petpet, FooFoo!" You nod, a little overwhelmed by it all. Gartshy either doesn't notice your distaste, or doesn't care. "He's here to apply for the petpet spotlight!" FooFoo chirps. It's a guttural noise that sounds a lot like a cough. "Okay, so you probably want to hear the story about how I got him. That's the first question they ask on the questionnaire, right? I had just joined my family, and my mom wanted me to feel welcome." So she got her this...thing. Great gift. "So when we went on a trip to visit the library at Altador, she let me pick out any petpet I wanted from the store." She actually chose this little vermin? "I think mom was a little disappointed I didn't want something more majestic, but FooFoo has been such a great petpet ever since! In fact, my whole family loves him now." That's good. You ask if FooFoo can do any tricks. "As a matter of fact, he can!" Gartshy stands up and carefully places FooFoo on the floor. You make a mental note to get that rug cleaned. "FooFoo, FLY!" FooFoo's bug-eyes narrow to slits, and his tongue lolls out as he focuses on flapping his wings. His wings, to his credit, do start to flap back and forth with increasing speed, but they're no match for the feathery sack of guts attached to them. "Look, see! I think he's off the ground a little!" FooFoo is hovering about as much as Faerieland right now, but you humor Gartshy. She scoops FooFoo back up and congratulates him. "I hope you agree that FooFoo really is a special little petpet!" Gartshy says. Oh yes, you assure her, shuffling her and FooFoo towards the door, you'll surely be hearing from the awards committee shortly.
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