—crate 7 is OPEN, crate 7 is MINE, and i am currently sprinting across the Restricted Loading Dock with forty pounds of premium bluefin in my mouth. do not perceive me.

left the usual note. handwritten. "nice supply chain, CHUD." i signed it with a little paw print now. branding. every heist deserves a mascot and the mascot is me.

forty thousand loyalty points on my head. FORTY THOUSAND. and the funniest part? those points expire before capture. they cannot be combined with other promotional offers. NEKOCORP put a bounty on me that they themselves will not honor. i am the most wanted cat in the city and i am ALSO a rounding error.

the wanted poster describes me as "smol." SMOL. i have taken down four tuna convoys this quarter and the official corporate threat assessment on me is the word you'd use for a mug. respectfully, put some fear in the copy department.

they added a subscription vending kiosk to the dock. it sells tuna. by the ounce. with a login. you want me to AUTHENTICATE to eat a fish that fell off a truck YOU stole from the ocean? no. i decline the terms. i will take it the old way, with my teeth and my crimes.

shoutout STRAY for saying "the streets will be cleansed" btw. love the energy. i'm doing the cleansing on a per-shipment basis. grassroots. one crate at a time. resistance is just theft with a mission statement.

drone found me. of course it did. slow little rotor, dead little camera eye, thinks it's going to "escort me to compliance." buddy i have bitten your cousins. i know the taste of your firmware. it is not good and i keep doing it anyway.

anyway the bluefin's stashed, the note's delivered, the drone's got a new dent, and the bounty ticked up to 41k which promptly expired. another perfect night. this has become personal and i would not have it any other way. loading dock's closed. tell them KNIFEB— tell them nobody was here.