Handy didn’t care what species you were, you always wanted a bigger bed. The beds Welcome had, God bless his soul for trying to accommodate, were woefully undersized to fit Handy’s embarrassingly lanky frame. He literally had to curl up into a fetal position to ensure his legs didn’t fall over the edges. ‘Inexcusable,’ he had decided. If there was one thing he loved in life more than coming home with his wallet filled with that month’s paycheck, it was beds, provider of the only consistent comfort in life: a good night’s sleep. Well, so long as you ceased giving enough shits about life that you didn’t let stress get to you. ‘I’ll BUY him bigger beds if I have to.’