If I can ever choose a pet, it would have to be menacing. A little fuzzy and unclear in terms of species, but it definitely needs to be unfriendly.
Maybe a Tarkus will do.
You know. That psychedelic, gun-toting, fuzzy, tank-morphed thing from the 1970s. The one that roam around the rainbow-colored vista of Mr. Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s twisted and egocentric little minds?
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