Envision a refined yet visibly desperate feline—a sleek, well- groomed cat with a dignified air, yet betraying its composure with twitching whiskers and slightly dilated pupils. It kneels theatrically on an ornate velvet cushion, paws delicately clasped in a pose of elegant supplication. Its eyes, wide with longing, are fixed on an opulent crystal goblet filled with a golden, effervescent elixir labeled “BUZZ, ” perched just out of reach on a grand pedestal. The background suggests an air of aristocratic indulgence—perhaps a lavish study lined with towering bookshelves, a roaring fireplace casting dramatic shadows, and a butler owl observing the scene with quiet amusement. The cat’s internal monologue is practically audible: “Dare I debase myself for just a taste? …Yes. Yes, I do. ”