"I'm not sure which is weirder," Otis said, rubbing the back of his head, feeling completely self-conscious, "the fact you want me to be in the magazine photoshoot, or the fact Venti was right all along."

The tiger laughed, steepling his fingers as he leaned back in the chair. "If I'd known there were two of you as big as houses," the tiger chuckled, "I'd have asked to speak to you as well."

"Venti didn't tell me he was going to go ahead and talk to you, sir." Otis looked over his shoulder at Venti, who was studiously pretending to be working out. Otis, of course, wasn't fooled. He knew the jackal was watching.

"Venti just wanted you to share in a slice of the pie, so to speak. He could have just taken all the attention for himself."

"Yeah, Venti's generous like that. It makes up for him bein' a sneak."

The tiger chuckled again. "If you're not interested, we can just--"

"No, no. I guess I'm interested, sir. Sorry for interruptin'."

The tiger shrugged, grinning. "Well, why don't you take my card and we'll set up an appointment, see how you look in front of the camera?"

"That'd be a swell idea, sir." Otis then stood up along with the tiger, and shook hands before the feline left.

"You know you want to, Otis," Venti said from behind the otter.

"You gotta stop sneakin' up like that," Otis said, surprised at how quietly Venti approached. "How does a half-ton jackal move like that?"

"I told you already, when I was a kid, I--"

Otis waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, I know. Rhetorical question, pal. Look it up in the dictionary."

"Can't. Never owned one in my life. The Internet is my dictionary." Venti wrapped his arms around the otter's neck, looking over his shoulder at the card he held. "So you going to come with me to the photoshoot?"

"Maybe."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"I'll have to see if work'll let me take the time off," Otis said, putting the card in his back pocket.

"I forget what you do for work," Venti said. "Deep sea fishing?"

"You're a brat."

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