3. Class Picture J.F. Hire

Everyone here has a few knit sweaters, some hooded robes and sashes to don their attire. I've got something like burlap to festoon my hair with, and nothing but a sack of a dress to wear over my tail and fur. In this rat-race, where everyone can hear gossiping squeaks from a mile away, it's easy to know your place in the class system. 

You're poor, or you're gone. It's all a matter of raising in level, until you're some kind of cream of the crop, and you move on to greener pastures with more opportunity. But with all that opportunity at your doorstep, I imagine there's less fulfillment.

Mama Rizzo would always say: "Well, when you're that well-off you don't need a job." 

So then why is it so easy for them to get what they want? She tells me not to worry my little 'bobble head' about it. 

So at picture day today, I would just sit, have my picture, and go to class. 

Well, that's what I should have done. 

Instead, I decided to take what I wanted. So I left school, and went to the nearby bakery that those giants ran. It wasn't exactly dangerous, because it was just rummaging through their trash. 

I took my share, what those would have wasted, and counted my blessings. It wasn't long after thanking God when brimstone rained down upon me, and tore through my most lovely clothing. I rushed back to school, avoiding the pelting rain, just in time for photos.

They told me to wait last, because I would dirty the pedestal with my clothing.

In reaching for my piece of the pie, I managed to cover my face in it, and descend even lower on the ladder.