The massive stage lights flickered on with a loud thunk and an intense hum. The spotlights scrolled and spun about the shadows before zeroing in on a dashing leopard in an immaculate blue suit at the center of the blackness. A hush fell over the crowd. All eyes were on the cat as he confidently adjusted the knot of his bright red bowtie and flashed a mischievous smile toward the audience. He raised a microphone to his muzzle.

“Good evening, everyone!”

The mass of anthros in the stands barely had time to register his voice before they erupted with applause and whistles for their favorite host. The emcee grinned broadly, waggling his eyebrows and blowing kisses to the crowd. Once the excitement had time to die down to an excited murmur, he continued in a well rehearsed manner.

“Welcome to another exhilarating episode of What Will You Do!? where we take ordinary furs and see just how much humiliation they are willing to endure for a shot at a fabulous mystery prize! I’m your host, Cale Baxter. We have selected five wonderful contestants tonight who’ve made their way through our preliminary rounds of torment. They’ve proven they are willing to embarrass themselves in front of the world and our beautiful studio audience. But first, today’s theme: ‘Regression Session!’”

His voice was punctuated by the gentle tinkle of lullaby music. The spotted feline gave a flamboyant flourish to the set behind him. More lights suddenly snapped on, illuminating the darkness all about him. Oversized playroom paraphernalia littered the stage. There were gigantic blocks emblazoned with brightly painted letters and numbers, giant cribs capable of housing fully grown anthros with mobiles of rocket ships spinning lazily above them. Colorful foam puzzle-piece mats covered most of the floor with a selection of infantile toys scattered about; everything from simple rattles that newborns and hatchlings would play with all of the way up to toys better fitting older toddlers and young cubs. Baxter gave the crowd a chance to survey the scene before continuing.

“Without further ado, let’s meet the five lucky- or shall we say ‘brave?’- furs who will be competing against one another tonight!” The cameras and spotlights panned over to where a small parade of anthros made their way onstage, walking in a line a few paces apart from one another.

First out was a handsome corgi. He was on the short side with an average build and stunning emerald green eyes. He looked to be in his early twenties and was dressed in a form-fitting, one-piece footed pajama sleeper that fully covered his foot paws and his arms to the wrists. The fleecy polyester was crimson and covered in white polka dots. It zipped up in the rear, and he had a very noticeable diaper bulge at his waist pressing out against the fabric. He gave a shy smile and a wave, clearly energetic and outgoing enough that he wasn’t completely embarrassed dressed in such a way on television (although the pink inner ears still tinged scarlet with his blushing). 

Following the canine was a rhinoceros a few years older than he, with a muscular physique. He towered over his fellow contestants. Such an imposing anthro seemed comically out of place dressed in a tight t-shirt and denim short-talls, especially considering the powerful spike that jutted up from the tip of his snout. He had an obvious bulge around his butt that matched the dog’s, indicating that he too was padded. His face was kept more stoic than the previous contestant’s however, as if he was making it his personal goal to not show just how embarrassed he truly was by the display. His expressionless facade faltered momentarily when he noticed colossal screens above the stage playing footage of each of them being diapered and dressed into their show attire backstage, filmed from a camera he hadn’t noticed at the time. He scowled for a split second upon hearing the crowd’s raucous laughter at seeing  his crinkling protection taped into place.

The third contestant was a Veemon who shuffled out only a couple of steps behind the horned anthro. The digital dragon was made to wear a t-shirt but nothing more than a poofy, white diaper covered in rainbow paw prints on his lower half, showing off more of his smooth, blue scales than he would like. The paler scales of the Digimon's cheeks flushed as he self-consciously tugged on the front of the all-too-short shirt with both talons in a fruitless attempt to cover himself, which only caused the viewers to guffaw at his awkwardness.

A snowy rat with a shock of deep purple fur on the top of his head traipsed after him. He was wearing a short sleeved onesie that was striped white and powder blue and snapped over his thickly padded crotch. He had a lithe, sinewy form and his hairless tail lashed behind him as he sauntered out. He was eager to win the grand prize and seemed the most confident of the bunch with his humiliating attire. 

Bringing up the rear was a bunny with obsidian black fur. The focused stage lights made his icy blue eyes twinkle. The rabbit was unlucky enough to be the player chosen to wear nothing but thick pink padding decorated with a motif of silver shooting stars. His ears drooped with obvious regret for agreeing to go on the show, and he barely managed to stifle a groan when he saw the footage of his naked body projected above him. In the clip he had his face buried in his paws while the crew fastidiously shook a plume of powder onto his exposed sheath and sac then folded the diaper around his groin to be secured into place. He just knew all of his friends were watching at home at that moment and keeping clips to tease him aggressively with later.

“Please welcome Maxwell, Cadoc, Ember, Garco, and last but not least, Midnight!” The feline host listed their names in order with a motion to each in turn. “What an adorable bunch of cubs they make! Don’t you think?”

As the cameras focused on each of them and displayed their names under their portrait the contestants wore mixed expressions ranging from confident smiles from those trying to own the situation to nervous fidgeting to shy blushing. The Veemon looked at his feet and dug one of his large toe-claws into the stage as part of a nervous habit, while Midnight tugged on his long, floppy ears and looked like he was trying to find a way to stand that didn’t present his diaper so prominently to the audience. The rodent quickly cast his gaze across the competition, sizing them up with his entirely black eyes. Maxwell, the corgi who dressed in the least embarrassing of the costumes, struck some nerdy and playful poses, to the delight of the crowd. The rhinoceros looked into the middle distance, trying to ignore the world around him.

“For you first time viewers, here is how it all works. We will have a series of challenges. After each round a contestant will be eliminated until there is only one remaining. Then our audience- that’s you, lovely viewers- get to vote on one of two grand prizes for the winner. Losers will each get consolation prizes, of course, as well as letting the world see their performance tonight in all its glory.” The spotted emcee chuckled. “Let’s jump right in with our first game of the episode!”

A large, shallow tub was lowered in from the ceiling by a series of cables and set on the floor between Cale and the competitors. It was filled with foamy lather that bubbled and sloshed as it landed. 

“We will be starting off the night with bathtime. As those of you with young ones might know, the best way to keep our little cubs from getting fussy in the bath is to give them something to play with. Hidden beneath these slippery suds are some soft, squishy blocks. The contestants will have to dig through the foam, find the blocks and build themselves a tower before time runs out. The player with the shortest tower when it is time to get out of the bath will be sent home. And, as if that task wasn’t difficult enough on it’s own, we are going to make it just a little bit more difficult.” 

The leopard gestured frequently as he spoke and was adept at working up the crowd. He let the mystery hang in the air for a moment before some of the show’s crew filed on stage. They carried with them plush vinyl mittens that fit around each of the anthros’ fists to eliminate their fine dexterity and cinched tight to buckle with a tiny brass padlock around their wrists, effectively trapping their paws, claws, and talons inside. The employees fled as quickly as they arrived to not impede the production, leaving the anthros on stage staring at their fists wondering how they were supposed to do anything with their dexterity sealed away.

“Get used to those mitts, boys, you’ll be wearing them all show.” The announcer chuckled. “I’m keeping your time limit a secret, so make every second count. On my signal,” he made a show of staring at his wristwatch. “...and go!”

The contestants clumsily scrambled into the tub and waded through the foam. They quickly found out that there wasn’t actually any water in the tub, just dense bubbles. They reached blindly into the suds, searching for blocks. They were numerous, and all quickly found some. However, picking them up was an entirely different matter. They had to carefully hold each block between both paws and start a stack beneath where they could see. This was made all the more challenging due to the fact that the blocks were not completely solid, but instead a spongy material that gave to the touch.

Without a clock to tell them just how little time that they had left, they worked at a furious pace, each not wanting their humiliation to be wasted by being knocked out of the competition in the initial round. Some of the anthros initially managed far better than others. The furs like Garco, the white rat, who were used to having slender claws to manipulate things with were worse off, while the less naturally dextrous contestants weren’t hampered to quite the same degree. As their towers stacked higher, the rodent found himself falling further behind. He looked about and noticed that Maxwell’s tower was climbing higher than he could hope to rival. As the corgi turned around and bent down to rummage through the foam, Garco smirked and flicked his tail through the dog’s precarious column of blocks, sending the toys tumbling in all directions. 

The canine gasped and popped up in surprise, but that motion was so quick that it startled the Ember who staggered back and tripped through Midnight’s structure. The chain reaction ruined almost everyone’s work and the mad scramble to rebuild left them covered in suds and panting from exertion. A shrill whistle interrupted their progress as the game was finally called. They all took stock of each other’s creations, only to see that the obsidian furred rabbit had recovered the least well from the unintended melee.

“I’m sorry, Midnight. It looks like you are our first cub to be sent home tonight,” Cale announced. “Or should I say, the first cub to be sent to the ‘naughty corner’ to watch the remainder of the show.” He gestured over to one end of the set where a series of giant, swing-like baby bouncers had been erected beneath a sign declaring ‘TIME OUT’ in cartoonish font with a backward E. “Don’t worry though, you won’t be leaving with empty paws. You’ll get to keep those mitts you’re wearing as your consolation prize.” The host lowered his voice as the lapine was ushered off and lifted into his assigned seat, diaper crinkling loudly as he sat, “We’ll mail you the key at the end of the episode. Expect delivery in four to six weeks,” he rattled off humorously into the microphone in a stage whisper.

The rabbit’s large paws couldn’t quite reach the floor to give him leverage as he squirmed in the seat. The position he sat in put pressure on his bladder and he found that he actually needed to pee quite badly, something the exhilaration of competing had distracted him from. Midnight immediately realized he would have to hold it in until the end of filming since it didn’t look like Baxter intended to let him leave anytime soon, and he certainly wasn’t going to draw attention to himself by asking. He was surrounded by television screens that emitted a low, droning hum while displaying a multicolored, whirling spiral pattern on all sides except that which faced the audience and television cameras. He recognized them as the exact same displays from the many screens in the greenroom that he and the others had lounged in for a couple of hours before the show began. None of them had paid much attention to them at the time, thinking that it was merely a theatrical flourish that matched the show’s style. Despite attempting to see around it and watch the remainder of the competition, Midnight couldn’t resist it catching his attention over and over again, and soon found himself inexplicably captivated.

The show cut to commercial as the remaining players were helped out of the immense tub and towelled off (mussing up the fur of the anthros who had it in the process). As soon as the footage cut away a bunch of show employees quickly gathered on stage. Spreader bars were affixed around the contestants’ ankles, which made them all drop onto all fours and crawl around on their mitts to avoid tripping and falling on their faces. Their diapered rumps were prominently presented by the position. The employees worked with speed and precision and had completely cleared away well before the cameras started rolling again. The audience cheered and laughed at seeing the challengers’ hampered movement regressing them further into acting like cubs.

Meanwhile, the tub of bubbles was hauled away and the set behind the announcer was pulled back a little ways by an unseen winch. An obstacle course was pushed in from either side, fitting seamlessly together. It was a virtual gymnasium with bars to shuffle under, low walls to vault, steep wedges jutting up to climb over, and spinning pillars with sweeping arms to avoid. It looked like there were four paths with a variety of obstacles each, all converging on a single point. At the end was a low, ostentatiously painted table with several plates of cookies and a smattering of bottles and cups of various sizes, ranging from small sippy cups to comically large bottles.

Shortly after the set had made its dramatic transformation, the producer, a stern camel wearing headphones and holding a tablet, signaled to the leopard that they were about to go back on air. 

“Now that bathtime is over, let’s keep our contestants in a cub mood by having them crawl through our playtime obstacle to reach the snacks at the end. The first anthro to eat all of their plate of cookies and drink any one of the cups or bottles at the end wins. Faster contestants will get an advantage in the following round by having a bit less drink to swallow, and the slowest player will be eliminated from tonight’s game. You want to get there early, or you will be stuck downing the biggest bottle. Now, one glance at our players and you might assume that this isn’t entirely a fair challenge,” the leopard smoothly slid over to the contestants and motions with a thumb toward the powerfully built rhino and simultaneously nodded to the shorter Veemon. “...so we found a way to even the odds!” He nudged a spreader bar with his toe.

The show’s master of ceremonies led Maxwell, Cadoc, Ember, and Garco to their assigned places at the heads of each of the obstacle courses.

“When you hear the signal, go go go! We want to see those padded behinds zoom through the course.” Cale said gleefully before beginning a countdown.

As soon as the signal was given all of the contestants tried with all of their might to reach the end the quickest. None of them wanted the public humiliation of being dressed like a cub on national television and recorded for all time to be for nothing.

Garco scampered forward quickly. As he scurried on his paws and knees the crotch of his onesie stretched to its limit and the snaps popped free, exposing his crinkling diaper for everyone to see. He felt the flap flutter between his thighs as he crawled, but, unable to do anything about it, paid it no mind. He was completely driven and intent on winning the big prize. Cadoc also barrelled forward. He was athletic and had little trouble keeping up the stamina to go nonstop without braking. He may not be as agile as his fellow competitors but the rhino’s muscular bulk helped him keep moving past hurdle after hurdle. He ran into a major obstacle near the end of his course, where he had to squeeze his broad-shouldered frame through a tight fit by belly-crawling under a low gap. He could just about wriggle through, but found his childish attire getting caught on the scenery. One of his shoulder straps snagged itself on a bit of the course and he found himself tangled in place.

Ember, the Veemon, due to his natural wide-legged, waddling gait, performed well. The spreader bar forcing him to crawl barely slowed him down any, and his slighter frame served him well. Still, the digital dragon could have moved faster had he not constantly tried to shield his crinkling padding from the gaze of the camera operators who focused on him whenever he was in the lead.

Maxwell fumbled forward tirelessly, but without the natural strength and stamina of the horned anthro or the agility the rodent possessed, the corgi quickly fell behind. It was only when Cadoc got stuck for good that he pulled himself out of last place and made it to the snack and drink table neck and neck with the rhinoceros.

The other two contestants had already arrived, each selecting a small plate and drink and nearly having finished them, leaving behind only a smattering of crumbs. Eating was difficult with the mits covering their paws and Maxwell, not wanting to lose the small advantage he had gained over Cadoc, resorted to pressing his muzzle against the plate and licking up bits of cookie. Both the canine and the larger fur shoveled cookies into their mouths and reached for drinks. Only a huge sippy cup and giant bottle remained. The bottle held a little less liquid to swallow, but would also be slower to drink from. Maxwell quickly made the decision to drink from it and raised its bottom to the sky. He sucked it all down as quickly as he could. The excitement of their race to avoid elimination caused a tense silence to fall over the audience. Even Cale fell silent as he watched closely, ready to declare a loser any second.

The corgi finished his bottle and dragged his cloth covered forearm across his muzzle to wipe away the excess when the rhino had only drops left in his sippy cup and announced that he had finished. The rhinoceros grunted in defeat and slammed his cup down on the table a bit harder than he had perhaps intended to.

“I’m sorry, Cadoc. You’re going to the naughty corner! Thank you so much for playing. The mitts and spreader bar are yours to keep and you still get tonight’s extra consolation prize: A pack of adult diapers with adorable prints like the one you’re all wearing now. And, a word of advice,” he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial hush, “I’d keep them close-at-paw. Our producers may have mentioned that those chocolate chip cookies might have been laced with a little something extra, if you catch my drift.” He winked impishly at the audience.

The rhino’s jaw dropped when he felt his stomach gurgle, unsure if the emcee was telling the truth or if he was making a joke and the horned anthro’s stomach acted up at the wrong time. Stage crew guided him off of the set to join Midnight in the bouncer seat beside the rabbit before he could ask. He too was soon enthralled by the distorted, churning eddies on the screens around them.

“And then, there were but three!”

“For our next challenge our remaining contestants will be mercilessly tickled until they wet themselves. We really only need one to lose, but just for fun we will see how long the other’s can last. You might be thinking that this would take all evening, but our cubs have been guzzling water nonstop backstage before filming and those drinks they all just had in the previous round contained just a few teeny-tiny trace doses of muscle relaxers and diuretics, so trust us when we say that it will be even harder than it sounds, folks.”

Ember, Garco, and Maxwell gulped and looked nervously to one another. They had been told that between the physical activity of the show and the hot stage lights it was best to keep well hydrated prior to filming and thought nothing more of the constant offerings of fresh water bottles. Each had taken the advice and had plenty.

The anthros were assisted into a trio of reclining chairs like one might find at a dentist’s office. Employees helped undress Garco and Maxwell so that their diapers were fully on display, just like Ember’s. You could almost see crimson beneath the rat’s ashen fur as a fresh wave of embarrassment washed over them. The microphones were sensitive enough to pick up every crinkle of the plastic as they moved and amplified it for the audience. They were strapped down by the padded cuffs around their forearms and legs to prevent too much movement as an outlet for their tickle torture.

“We can’t have you laughing too loud now, can we, everyone?” Cale asked as a gag in the shape of a pacifier was popped into each of their mouths and fastened around the back of their heads. 

Their chairs were positioned several feet apart and a camera was centered on each of them, displaying every detail of their plight close up, side-by-side on the screens above the stage for the audience. Already each fur’s bladder twinged from the combination of over hydration and the secret dosing the previous round. They had already had a lot to drink with no bathroom break, and if what the host said was true it wouldn’t be long before they burst and soaked themselves. They grimaced and blushed in unison, knowing that they were all about to wet their diapers on television in the next few minutes. All that remained was to see in which order it happened.

The three anthros felt terribly exposed with the focus so close up and unyieldingly on them that they didn’t even notice as various devices folded out of the chairs they sat on. An apparatus like a spinning brush swept out and spun rapidly near their foot paws, slowly drawing its soft bristles closer to their paw pads or scaly flesh. At the same time a series of crew members from the show in plush suits like giant stuffed toys waddled out on stage. They carried with them feathers, electric toothbrushes, and other implements to tickle their helpless captives with. Each made their way to a contestant and simultaneously found underarms, knees, ribs, necks, and other sensitive areas to torment.

Maxwell fidgeted and squirmed in his chair, and reflexively giggled into his pacifier. He found that the gag was worst of all, being unable to express himself in the most natural way to being tickled. The corgi flexed every muscle in his body, and found himself thrashing as much as he could while squishing his thighs together to keep his aching bladder in check.

Garco wasn’t faring much better. He could endure the foot tickling decently well, despite his hairless paws being unprotected from each caress of the spinning brush. The employee had found his most vulnerable area- the fuzz around his knee- and was relentless in focusing on it. He huffed and wheezed against his gag but managed to hold on. He came to win, so even though he felt the pangs of a necessary release and knew he needed to hold on just a little bit longer. He squeezed his fist inside of the mitts with determination. Luckily the padding they wore was fluffy and absorbent, because he was definitely going to challenge its capacity when he eventually lost control. As he laughed and writhed he teetered on the brink of allowing himself to let go, and by some miracle managed to resist the overwhelming temptation.

The Digimon skewed his face as he wriggled and tried not to laugh. His legs were naturally more wide-set than the others and along with the spreader bar that had yet to be removed his heavily padded nether region was the most prominently displayed. He whimpered between puffs of laughter that he bit back, but his eyes snapped wide open when he was the first to feel a trickle escape him. The jet of urine splashed into the diaper. It wasn’t enough to be immediately noticeable to viewers, but he felt the damp warm squish around him and swell. Instantly he became aware that that crack in the dam was what was going to make him be the first to go. He fought to stem the flow before it grew worse, but the battle was pointless. His stream erupted from a small leak to a full on torrent, hissing against the rustling plastic of his protection. A soggy yellow stain bloomed across the front of the padding, causing it to sag wetly between his thighs while the tickling continued unabated. The crowd cheered and laughed as his face went completely red with humiliation.

“That is our first one done! Ember will be eliminated from the game. Enjoy the pacifier, it is yours to keep. Just so you get accustomed to it, we will have you keep it in while you are in the naughty corner!” The emcee announced, keeping the mood and excitement going. 

Maxwell hit his breaking point soon after. His muscles trembled as he laughed and wriggled against the endless tickling. He tensed and groaned as his bladder released in front of countless viewers, swelling his diaper with a deluge of canine pee. The rodent lasted scarcely seconds longer. While corgi was only halfway through wetting himself Garco began pissing as well. Rowdy laughter echoed from the stands and the cameras zoomed in on their dripping padding for the watchers at home.

The digital dragon was unbound enough to be guided over to a bouncer of his own with the other losing contestants while he sulked over his embarrassing loss and sucked on his pacifier. Moisture depressed from his sodden diaper as he twitched in his seat and he could smell the scent of his own urine about him. During this time a pair of changing tables were wheeled out, and both the dog and rat were helped up onto them. Atop each was a fresh new diaper, white with blue tapes. Along with the crisp padding was a pair of small steel chastity cages designed to fit snugly over one’s sheath and be held in place with a ring behind the wearer’s sac. The locks were recessed into the top of the devices. A shiny key glinted next to each.

“We can’t have good little cubs touching themselves, so let’s see who is more committed to the role to win tonight’s grand prize. Here is how our final, and most devious game goes: I’ll be changing each of you and locking you into your brand-new, top-of-the-line, tamper-proof chastity cages. I will then set each key into an electronic safe that will only open on a timed lock. You will each secretly write down how long that safe will stay closed for, and the winner will be whoever is willing to stay locked the longest. Be warned though, those cages aren’t coming off without either the key, or some heavy duty tools that you definitely don’t want anywhere near your sensitive bits. And keep in mind, regardless if you win or lose, you will remain locked for however long you decide. You’ll have a moment to think while I take care of those soggy diapers.”

Cale Baxter gave a flamboyant snap and the music on stage swelled, changing from the gentle lullaby melody that had been the background noise to the show to a tense theme to pressure them into thinking hard. Each contestant was handed a piece of paper and a crayon to write with. They had to awkwardly draw out an answer with their paws pressed together since they were still tightly encased within the mits and jittery with nerves.

The feline host sauntered over to the changing tables and started with Garco. The leopard deftly peeled the tapes of the white rat’s diaper free, then held his legs aloft with one paw on the spreader bar while withdrawing the used diaper from beneath his rump with the other, giving the audience in the stands and watching on their screens a close up view of the murine’s nakedness. He rolled it into a tight, squishing sphere and tossed it aside into a nearby bin where it rolled twice around the brim before dropping in. He then scooped up the chastity cage and enclosed it tightly around the rat’s sheath, clicking the chrome ring into place behind his scrotum. Cale gave the device a gentle tug to ensure that it was secure before placing a rustling diaper under the rodent’s rump. He threaded the murine’s tail through the appropriate groove, and stretched the tapes into their proper positions. The host gave his padded behind a playful swat before letting his legs fall back down.

The feline host turned his attention toward Maxwell and repeated the process, pausing briefly to poke at corgi’s plump, swelling sheath and grin over his shoulder to the audience.

“It looks like someone is definitely enjoying themselves here tonight! It’s a shame it might be a while before he can take care of this ‘little’ predicament.”

The contestant blushed at his budding arousal being called out so publicly, but tried to keep his thoughts on trying to guess how long Garco might scribble down on his piece of paper. As the chastity cage compressed his junk and added a weight he would be feeling for the foreseeable future, he decided on a length of time. It was an amount that felt exceedingly long to him. He hadn’t gone so long without an orgasm since he had first learned to paw off, but he would commit to being chaste for it to ensure victory. He didn’t want to have gone through all of the embarrassment and effort to get to the end, only to lose his shot at the grand prize in the final round, and knew that his competition probably felt the same way. 

When Cale finally drummed his agile fingertips on his freshly padded crotch, he knew he was out of time to change his mind.

“Let’s see what you put! Starting with our canine competitor, Maxwell, here…” he took the piece of paper and held it up, where a poorly drawn “140 days” was scrawled in red crayon. “That’s a long time!” Cale laughed. The camera zoomed in on the scrap of paper and displayed it for the audience to see, but the leopard didn’t state the time aloud and left Garco wondering just how long he had written down. “And for our other contestant…” He repeated the process. The audience was in almost as much suspense as Maxwell as the paper was held aloft.

A purple “3 months” was doodled on it.

“Our winner this evening is Maxwell!” The feline announced cheerfully. “Let’s have a round of applause for our precious pup’s victory! Garco, enjoy the next 90 days and your free chastity cage. Per tradition, our winner gets a fabulous prize chosen by our audience. Before we hold the vote on the award, we should inform you all that our contestants were unknowingly hypnotized into becoming bedwetters backstage in the greenroom before tonight’s show-” the four furs on the side of the stage widened their eyes in alarm in unison, momentarily drawn out of their stupor. “It’s something that we are reinforcing at this very moment. That doesn’t mean the compulsion isn’t already quite strong in each of them, though. Either we can undo the programming or we can offer security at night another way with a lifetime supply of high-end, heavy duty diapers, graciously donated by our sponsors. Let’s hear it everyone! Cheer now if you think he should get the diapers!” There was an excited uproar of whooping laughter. “And cheer now if you think he should be able to not wet the bed like the little cub he is!” It was dead silence save for a few cruel chuckles. “That’s clear as day to me!”

Maxwell fretted at the revelation. He remembered the screens and the noise backstage, but he hadn’t paid them much mind. Or had he? He sputtered with the gag in his muzzle, confused if it was just a joke for the audience’s sake or if the leopard was serious. The closing theme to the show began to blare, and curtains were drawn. The other contestants were helped out of their bouncers as the hypnotic screens turned off. The stage started to bustle with clean up activity. Despite his best efforts the corgi couldn’t get any of the show’s managers to give him a straight answer. They just asked him to confirm which address they should deliver his new diapers to.