Hand it over, lady

So. There is bird in the house after all.

I caught the Woman handling its fleshy carcass several days after the Turkening. Perhaps she thought she could slip it past me unnoticed if she jumbled the schedule around. Ha, fool! I am more adaptable than that!

The presence of genuine fowl has the Rodent in hysterics again. He sticks close to the Man, widely known for his clumsiness. Many bird-bits escape his grasp and fall to the Rodent, who sucks them in so fast that my ears pop.

But I am not in this for scraps. I have seen the bird in the sealed central cooling chamber, and it is a prize indeed. My sights are on the Holy Quail itself.

I have noted its position in the sealed chamber, and the fools have left it on the lowermost shelf. So. This will be easier than I thought. Now, to open the chamber, I need...

Hands. Dammit, I need hands. Where is that giant masked cat when he could actually be of use? I wonder if he'd settle for 25% of the take?

A tricky prospect. I must think on this. But quickly, before the Rodent gets the whole bird crumb-by-crumb.