Don't Eat This, You'll Die

A little past four on Sunday afternoon, the front doors of Mongmong Animal Hospital swung open and shut in a steady, busy rhythm.

"Welcome."

"Kakkong-i's here!"

"Hello, Mongi's guardian. If you'll come this way, and Mongi…"

Mongi and Kakkong-i were off like a shot toward the second floor before Jang Sora could even finish the sentence. Ttangkhongi, who came in right after them, did the same. He didn't hurry the way the two ahead of him had, but he was bound for the same place, toddling along the ramp toward the second floor at his own unhurried clip.

Watching the dogs all make for the same destination, Jang Sora tilted her head.

"Did I tell them to go to the second floor?"

"You must've told 'em. That's why they went straight upstairs, y'know. Otherwise they'd have headed over to the playground, wouldn't they?"

Go Gi-jin, who had been greeting guests alongside her, chimed in.

"I suppose so?"

Go Gi-jin answered with a laugh, then turned to welcome the next guardian and dog through the door.

"Well, would you look at our Mongsil, all dressed up so pretty today. Just too precious."

Mongsil, carried in her guardian's arms, broke into a wide, beaming smile. Her guardian gazed down at her, thoroughly smitten, and offered a greeting.

"Thank you so much for inviting us, doctors."

"Oh, we're the ones who ought to be thanking you. Mighty good of you to come when you're so busy."

"Haha, not at all. I'm the one who's grateful. It's thanks to all of you that our Mongsil is this healthy."

Mongsil's guardian watched, glowing, as Mongsil set off on her own, the apricot-colored dress she had worn in fluttering with every step. Go Gi-jin and Jang Sora followed her with their eyes as well — those steady, sure-footed steps. Warm smiles settled on both their faces. To the two of them, the simple fact that Mongsil was alive at all was a miracle.

But they couldn't linger on the sight for long. People and dogs kept streaming in.

"Come on in."

"Guardians, if you could head to the lobby."

There was no need to tell the dogs where ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to go. The moment they came through the door, every last one of them made straight for the second floor.

That was when Lee Jun came down. He had been upstairs getting ready to film. He walked over to the guardians seated in the lobby and greeted them.

"Hello, everyone. I hope I haven't ruined your Sunday off."

"Hello, Director. Don't be ridiculous. We're so happy you invited us."

"That's right. It's not like we had anything to do sitting at home. We're the ones who should be thanking you."

The guardians beamed as they returned his greeting. Lee Jun met each of their eyes in turn as he answered.

"Haha, I'm honestly so grateful that so many of you came. Still, I did contact you all in a bit of a rush, didn't I? Next time I'll give you more notice."

The truth was, Lee Jun had never intended to throw anything resembling an event at all.

The reason the guardians had come to the hospital today was to watch the filming of a video titled Don't Eat This, You'll Die. Lee Jun and Kwak Suho had planned to have the hospital's three brothers — Hoesaegi, Gkamnyangi, and Sapsaree — shoot the video and upload it to Myeotube. That plan itself hadn't changed.

What had changed was the scale. Far too many animals had taken an interest in the Troika's shoot. Every time they ran into Lee Jun, they asked the same things. Who was going to put on the better performance? And could they please watch?

Kakkong-i, Ttangkhongi, and Mongi had all asked. And somehow — he still wasn't sure how they'd found out — Mongsil, Haeng-un-i, even the cats Doobu and Yeolmu had asked too. Every last one of them wanted a front-row seat, so Lee Jun had decided to invite the animals together with their guardians. If he explained things in person, he reasoned, the guardians would take the warning far more seriously than they would from a video alone.

And so Mongmong Animal Hospital had hurriedly sent a text to its clients: there would be a very small event at the hospital this coming Sunday.

Which was how they had ended up here.

"Hello, Director. Please, have some of this."

The owner of Sugar the Great Pyrenees — and the proprietor of the cafe the Mongmong staff loved more than any other — held a cup out to Lee Jun.

"Oh, thank you so much. We should have been the ones preparing this. I can't believe you brought something this delicious."

"Haha, not at all. Do you have any idea how well our cafe is doing thanks to you, Director? I'm the one who's grateful."

Sugar's guardian answered with a smile that came straight from the heart. Lee Jun grinned back just as brightly and turned to the seated guardians.

"Everyone here knows Sugar's guardian, I take it?"

"Of course. That's the owner of Sugar & Coffee, the best spot in the neighborhood."

"The cake artisan Dr. Go himself vouched for — the owner of Sugar & Coffee."

"Haha, that's right. And the owner of Sugar & Coffee has sponsored today's coffee and snacks."

"How about a round of applause for our cafe owner here?"

Go Gi-jin added, and the lobby filled with the sound of clapping.

These were guardians who already knew one another's faces from the park and from the hospital. Most of them had visited Sugar & Coffee at least once. Every round of thanks they offered Sugar's guardian was genuine.

"We'll enjoy it, sir!"

"Thank you so much!"

The lobby warmed and brightened, buzzing with good cheer.

"Filming should start around five. Until then, please enjoy the drinks our cafe owner has so kindly provided and have a chat. Ah — and I imagine you're all wondering what our kids are up to in the meantime?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Lee Jun glanced at Jang Sora. They had arranged this in advance. She switched on the monitor at once, and the second-floor playground filled the lobby's big screen.

"Oh my, they're all sitting in a row."

"Wait, aren't those cats? They look like cats."

"They are cats."

"Good heavens, what am I even looking at?"

"No way. The cats and the dogs are sitting side by side. And they've arranged themselves by height — the little ones in front, the big ones in back."

"Haha, it looks like class is in session."

"More like they're sitting in a movie theater."

The guardians tossed out comments one after another, laughing as they did. And no wonder. The smaller dogs — Haeng-un-i, Ttangkhongi, Mongi, Mongsil, and the rest — were sitting in a neat row up front, along with the cats Yeolmu and Doobu. Even Donggeuli, the kitten who had undergone several major procedures only recently, had proudly claimed a spot right among her big brothers and sisters.

Mixed in among them were the Ever Green Park cats and the Bluebird Park cats. Sogeum-i sat beside Donggeuli, who was a little smaller than she was, while Norangi had stationed himself on the cat tower by the playground entrance, keeping watch in every direction. Milo was visible right beside him.

Kakkong-i, Ddalgi, Jamong, Aji, Som-i, Kkotnimi, and Juhongi had all found spots, and next to them sat Som-i of the Cotton Balls pair. The big dogs, like Sugar, had settled themselves farther back of their own accord, making sure the smaller animals had a clear view.

There were a great many dogs and cats in one place, and yet not a single yowl or bark rang out. Of course, there were small sounds — quiet meows and woofs — but those were only the murmurs of conversation. They were not, by any stretch, the sounds of a fight.

And besides the meows and woofs, there was another sound: the wet smack of tongues, the lip-smacking of animals working their mouths, savoring what they saw.

But the scene the guardians were watching was the backs of the animals' heads. They couldn't see the faces up front licking their chops, so those little sounds of appetite went entirely unnoticed. For the guardians, the mere sight of dogs and cats sitting together in harmony was moving enough all by itself.

Watching them stare holes through the monitor, Lee Jun smiled with quiet satisfaction. If they get absorbed in watching the kids perform, they'll remember the message those three deliver today. They won't forget it.

Inviting the guardians, he thought, had been the right call. He went on.

"Ah, and as I mentioned beforehand, once the kids finish filming, we'll have a short seminar. If you have any questions then, our doctors will be happy to explain everything in detail. I'll head back up and finish getting ready."

Lee Jun offered a bow and went up to the second floor.

Sniff sniff~ haaah.

Snuffle. Sniff sniff!

The dogs wriggled their noses one after another, licking their chops. The cats were no different. Their pink noses twitched in tiny, eager flutters, and their long, splendid whiskers bobbed up and down.

"Heehee, that looks so good."

"I'm gonna eat a ton. I'm eating that savory meat over there!"

"I wanna eat da white wound ones!"

"Hmm. I shall have those plump round morsels over yonder."

"They all look mighty tasty, they do."

Dogs and cats alike sparkled-eyed, chattering among themselves as they gazed at the feast spread before them. And yet not a single one of them made a move to go eat. A few steps — that was all it would have taken — and they could have had it. The reason was simple.

Once the performance by Mongmong Animal Hospital's Troika — the three they had all been waiting for, Hoesaegi, Gkamnyangi, and Sapsaree — was over, tasting time would follow. Knowing that, the animals waited with perfect composure for the Troika to take the stage.

And then, at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠last, the Troika appeared.

The three of them walked up onto the stage in crisp, disciplined steps. The stage was piled with the very snacks their friends had been drooling over: chocolate, onions, a basket of chicken, pig's trotters, avocado, macadamia nuts, xylitol gum, and more. There were also large bowls labeled in bold letters MILK and YOGURT.

Hoesaegi drew in a great breath and cried out.

"Sniff sniff! There's a savory smell coming from somewhere, meow."

"There is. A savory, sweet smell."

"Smack smack, it's a greasy, savory smell, it is! I'm gonna go eat it!"

The three of them scattered across the stage at the same time, then each took a stand in front of a different food.

Hoesaegi tapped the box of xylitol gum with a front paw. A dozen or so pieces clattered out onto the floor. The flat, shiny gums rolled all the way to where Gkamnyangi was standing. Tap. Gkamnyangi batted a piece of xylitol gum with his front paw, playing with it. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The gums, which looked like little glittering stones, made wonderful toys for a cat.

Hoesaegi promptly gave one a lick.

"Oh?"

He lifted his face, wearing the expression of someone turning a thought over, licked it once more, and said,

"What an interesting flavor, meow."

"Oh yeah? Then I will too."

Gkamnyangi, who until then had only been pawing at it, licked the sleek little xylitol gum — and immediately gave a full-body shudder.

"Ptew, ptew. That's a weird taste."

Unlike Hoesaegi, Gkamnyangi had not cared for the flavor at all. He shook his head hard and asked Hoesaegi,

"Is it good?"

"It's good, meow."

So saying, Hoesaegi crunched the gum between his teeth. At the sound of that crisp chewing, Sapsaree glanced over, then came running. The smell coming off the chicken box in front of him was wonderful too, but that crunching sound had looked like far too much fun.

"Does it taste good?"

With that, Sapsaree gave the bowl of xylitol gum a swipe of his paw.

The gums went scattering across the floor, and Sapsaree, delighted, began gobbling them up in great eager gulps. Slurp, slurp, slurp. He vacuumed up the xylitol gum as if he were cleaning the floor.

But once the crunching stopped and something chewy started working between his teeth, Hoesaegi shook his head from side to side.

"Ugh — that's weird, meow!"

Hoesaegi spat the gum out with a wet ptew. Then he ambled over and took his place in front of the bowl of milk.

"I'm thirsty, I am. I'll drink this, meow."

On the bowl was a drawing of a person drinking from it, and beside that, a drawing of dogs and cats keeled over in a heap. Later, a caption would roll across the screen:

"Then I'll eat the sparkly ones. They're even prettier and sparkly-er than what you ate, Hoesaegi."

Gkamnyangi pointed at a heaping pile of adorable little chocolates wrapped in foil.

"Heehee, then I'll eat this, I will! Hehe, the greasy smell is coming from right here!"

A chicken box filled half-and-half with fried chicken and seasoned chicken, sitting side by side like old friends. Sapsaree had been tasting the smell of it this whole time, and at last he had made up his mind to eat.

Sniff sniff sniff. Hoesaegi and Gkamnyangi both caught the scent of the chicken, their tails swaying.

"Go ahead, meow! I'll eat this, meow."

"Yeah. I'm eating this."

The three of them played the part of very close brothers, each respecting what the others had claimed and not laying a paw on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it. And this, as it happened, was also the truth. The three of them never coveted one another's food. Of course, there had been a certain amount of tension back when Hoesaegi and Gkamnyangi were on their diets — but even then, neither of them had so much as eyed the kibble in the other's bowl.

"Hehe, this is gonna be so good."

Sapsaree boldly brought his mouth toward a drumstick. He didn't even get to bite it.

BLEARGH!

He threw up with a great, awful sound. A slurry of stomach acid and gum came spilling from Sapsaree's mouth. Drooling, he staggered forward. The place he walked to was the front of the stage — a spot where every member of the audience could see him perfectly.

All four of his legs began to tremble, a little at first, then violently. Sapsaree was covered in long fur, and every time he flinched, that long coat shimmered and shook, so that he looked as if he were trembling far more dramatically than he actually was.

Then, still shuddering, Sapsaree suddenly rolled his eyes back. In a very small voice, he mumbled,

"…Huh… why's this happening?"

And with that, he listed sideways. A heavy thud rang out as Sapsaree collapsed to the floor.

In that instant—

"Sapsaree hyungnim!"

"Sa-Sapsaree hyung!"

"Sapsaree oppa!"

Several of the spectators, who had been completely absorbed in the performance, sprang to their feet and cried out. Beside them, Kwak Suho, who had been filming, jumped as well. Camera still in his hands, he couldn't quite stand up, but he did shout.

"Hey, hey — did he actually collapse for real?"

"No. It's acting. Acting."

Lee Jun said it as if it were nothing at all. That was how convincing Sapsaree's performance had been. His eyes shining, Lee Jun looked toward the stage, already eager for whatever came next.