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Pet Name: Wezsley
"Oh, aren't you just DARLING!" The elderly Scorchio woman is getting a little too close for comfort – squinting over her glasses at him, dressed in an unflattering floral frock, her toothy smile framed with orange lipstick. "Riding around on your petpet! That’s adorable! Where are you heading off to so fast? Where's your owner, little one?"
Wezsley blinks. He readjusts himself in his Bika’s saddle, taking a deep breath before responding in the most respectful tone he can muster.
"Good morning, Ma’am. I'm heading to the bakery to purchase a Chocolate Cherry Bundt Cake for my little sister. And my owner is vacationing on Krawk Island, most likely getting hustled at Bilge Dice." He pauses as the lady stares at him. "I'm in charge of the house while she's gone," he adds.
In Neopia, one’s fate can change in an instant. Some find themselves staggeringly rich after a visit from Dr. Sloth; some find themselves quietly fuming as the Tax Beast counts out twenty percent of their wealth. And an unfortunate few will suddenly come face to face with a little pink monster of legend – his ray gun aimed squarely at their face, and his mad, shrill “Bwahahaa!” ringing in their ears.
Wezsley’s life has never really been the same since Boochi struck. A simple trip to the Coffee Cave was suddenly made unforgettable – in the space of a moment, he changed from a teenager with a handsome white coat to a tiny, potato-like ball of fluff, and it has taken its toll. Never before has he had to deal with cooing little old ladies, names like “sugar-pie”, and inquiries as to why there is not an owner holding his hand. Furthermore, he is too afraid of turning into a snot Chia to subject himself to the lab ray, and a new paint brush is a long way off. (He once attempted to readjust his height with a Supersize!, but this only kept him from fitting through doorways for the next three minutes.)
Despite all of this, Wezsley has adjusted with remarkable grace. Once his mind had cleared, he found the disadvantages of small size relatively easy to overcome; the neohome has been thoroughly outfitted with stepstools, and on the roads of Neopia Central where his tiny legs would otherwise make swift travel impossible, he now rides his Bika Apollo wherever he goes. He is smart, artistic and sophisticated, and his adoptive brother and sister rely heavily on his ability to organize and get things done.
Surprisingly, he has also found a few advantages to being a baby. Lupes no longer consider him a potential entrée, since he is barely a mouthful anymore; and he finds he can haggle ruthlessly in the shops, since none of the shopkeepers would want to make a little Chia cry. Still, he has remained a snappy dresser, speaks with eloquence, and styles his hair in a way that makes it look like there’s more of it – hoping this will encourage others to think twice about saying “Gootchie gootchie goo!”
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