The Hot Dog King is just watching all this. Why? Because he knows Bear Lawyer (and other victims of fowl play) will simply turn around and buy more product from him. Isn’t that called continuing criminal enterprise?
While the Hot Dog King’s stoic demeanor might strike one as suspicious, it must needs be known that he is but a powerless figurehead atop a throne of pickled relish. A long-suffering victim of avian racketeers, the Hot Dog King and his once-proud realm suffer daily under the oppressive yoke of the winged demons. Truly, their incessant squawks, irreverent bowels, and never-ending demands for tribute have left the lowly vendor bitter and broken.
No—sympathetic though he may be to Bear Lawyer’s present plight, the Hot Dog King knows full and well what viciousness awaits any man (or bear) who would seek to deny the gulls their unfair share. The Felafel Pharaoh down the street tried it once; they fed him his own nose, on a pita, with tahini.
He hasn’t been the same since.
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