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Pet Name: Omega54
It had already been quite a long day when I realized that I had forgotten my glasses on the reception desk of the Neolodge. Of course, I was not pleased to discover this. In a matter of hours I had picked up my pets from their vacation at the lodge, sat through 200 rides on the Roo Island Carousel and trekked all the way to Neovia because my Kau, Koravi68, just HAD to buy another cheap felt hat. Needless to say, my mood did not improve when I barged through the heavy wooden doors of the lodge and found that my glasses were not on the desk where I had left them.
I turned around frantically, shifting my eyes over each dining room table and every single countertop. Suddenly, I froze. In the corner of the room sat a Plushie Jetsam on a shining black piano bench, and on his bulbous forehead rested my glasses!
I could barely contain my anger. Well how rude of him, to take someone's glasses without the faintest clue as to whom they belong to! I approached the Jetsam, who had just started to place his fins upon the ivory keys of the piano, and in my most civil tone asked that he return those glasses to their rightful owner. The Jetsam suddenly froze and glared at me, straining his head back so far that I was afraid he would bust a seam.
"THEY ARE MINE!" he screamed with such force that I nearly stumbled over. "I have found the glasses, and they are mine! You cannot have them!"
It took all of my effort to regain my composure. I had heard horror stories about Jetsams and how mean-spirited they could be at times, but no story matched the display of aggression that I witnessed at that moment. I took a deep breathe and again demanded that he hand over the glasses. I was prepared for yet another horrible confrontation, but instead the Jetsam slowly reached up and placed the glasses in my hand.
"Oh yeah right," he muttered quietly, "I'm supposed to be nicer around here or I'll get fired. Well, I really liked the glasses anyway."
"Fired? But from where?" I questioned.
"FROM HERE!! FROM THIS PIANO!" the Jetsam bared his fangs at me. "You...you are just like all the others you know. 'Oh look, it is a cute little Plushie!' You do not think I can play, do you?"
I was shocked by how the Jetsam accused me, but what was I to say to such an easily aggravated fellow?
"Well, I mean, ah...I don't know. Your fins are rather small...I mean, not that that's a bad thing! I'm sure you can play just as well as anyone else!"
The Jetsam glared over his shoulder at me once again. And then, with a great flair and much deliberation, he placed himself upon the ivory keys once more and began to play. I had never heard such beautiful music! His fins trailed effortlessly over the black and white pattern and his tail swished in rhythm to the melodic sound. I watched and listened with awe as his fins turned into little fast-moving blurs and the music ended in a grand and glorious exaltation.
"Well, I stand corrected!" I patted the Jetsam on the back, which he seemed to loathe very much. "That was by far some of the best piano-playing I have ever heard in my entire life! Your owner must be very proud."
I was about to continue praising him for his masterpiece, but I saw that he was no longer glaring at me and was now staring longingly at the floor.
"I do not have an owner," he began slowly, "I earn Neopoints from playing the piano. I get by."
"Oh dear! I'm sorry, I...I didn't know. But why on earth would no one want to be your owner? You are such a talented Neopet!"
"You want to know why?" the Jetsam looked up at me once again and I could tell that he was about to say something very meaningful just by the look in his eyes. "I will sum it all up for you. I am too mean. I have a temper. What do owners want? Cute, cuddly pets. Loveable, huggable pets. I am supposed to be like those other pets. See? I am Plushie. Plushie pets are supposed to want lots of hugs and love. But personally, I cannot stand that mush!"
I couldn't help but start to laugh. "You know, not all owners are like that! Well, just think of all the owners who like slimy, snot-covered pets, or mutant pets, or even smelly skunk pets! You know, I could take good care of you. I would let you keep your piano, and you could play at the Neolodge for your job. I would not take that away from you. And I promise I would never, ever, treat you like a cuddly little Plushie!"
The Jetsam seemed to ponder the idea for a while, scratching his head repeatedly.
"I...I guess so." he said finally, resting his gaze on his piano. "As long as I can keep my piano and all. Ok, I guess I will do that."
The musician Jetsam looked up at me once more. "Do you think, perhaps, I could have my very own petpet?"
"Of course," I shouted, "I will give you any petpet you desire!"
"Good." the Jetsam stared down again and for a brief second I could have sworn that I saw him smile. "I really like mine served with butter, please."
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