He learned very quickly that “cute” gets results.
Not sure who from, can't be me. I'm impervious to weaponised eyelashes.
On Penguin Day, he appears—small, round, politely clasping his hands, ears tucked just enough to seem harmless.
He does not ask for much. Just a snack. A favour. Access to somewhere he absolutely is not allowed to be.
He will wait. He will blink slowly.
If denied, the cuteness intensifies.
If successful, he vanishes immediately, leaving crumbs in his wake, and the distinct feeling you’ve been outplayed by something wearing a bow tie.
This is the only warning.
You've been notified.