The names Woxy. Foxy Woxy. But you can call me Alan. This is my true story. It is a story of a once blossoming friendship which turned to me being stabbed in the back and my once good friend abusing me in the name of money.
That’s me. It had been a pretty long day at this point. I had just come back from court trying to get royalties for pictures that I am in. The court case is still ongoing. Apparently the UK courts don’t see why I, a Fox called Alan, should get any royalties.
The court case exists because my once friend Floog now takes pictures of me in precarious positions and then sells them on. A while ago, he had me in a tutu doing a pirouette. He sold it to me that we could make a lot of money, but have I seen a penny of it? Hell, he doesn’t even leave a plate of food out for me, but there he is in his big comfy house with his family living the high life. As for me; no family. I am far away from that dream trying to find stardom. A stardom that Floog promised me, but never delivered.
Growing up, I was a happy little dude. My Dad did everything he could to get food on the table. He was a professional runner at a race track having dogs chase him while people bet on which dog wins the race. They used to use a hare, but he retired after a nasty incident where he slipped and the dogs caught him. The ambulance chasers were all over that incident.
Even though we didn’t have money, we were always happy. Growing up, I did a stint in the armed forces protecting fox and county. Here is me in my army fatigues:
Fetching huh! The ladies always loved me. It was this picture that Floog took of me which started all of this. He approached me one day while wearing my uniform and said he wanted to take a photo. I let him; afterall, what a compliment for such a promising photographer to want to take a photo of me.
After the photo-shoot, Floog told me that we should work together. With my sexy body, long red hair and a tail so bushy, the ladies faint when they see me, it seemed like I would be on the cover of Foxes World in no time.
Then it all changed. He changed. The pictures were no longer me in muscular foxy positions. He wanted pictures of me dressed in weird clothes. And in poses which no fox should be in. I mean please…have you ever wanted to see a fox wearing a gingham dress? No of course you haven’t. And why would you! And then he started telling me what “sexy” poses I should be doing. Do you think this picture will ever make it to the front cover of Foxes World:
He sold it to me as follows: “Foxy…I want you to put your back leg around your head. I really want to get the men on board on this one”. Huh? What? I am a red blooded Fox called Alan! I want the ladies after me! I mean look at it. It is barely my finest moment is it?! So I said “Look. You have one more chance to get this right or I am off”. He told me to trust him and he would do me right. He said no more gingham dresses and we would go “up market”. I stupidly believed him. Here is what he did:
*sigh* And that was that. I forced a confrontation with Floog. He said “Look, we are making money out of you here!”. We are…or YOU are? Because I am not seeing a penny. He had sold my pictures to some VERY dubious publications such as “Fox Love Monthly” and “Fluffy Tails with Fluffy Tales” magazine.
So there we have it. I am in court with him trying to get some money out of him and maybe live the life that he already lives. It is a tough harrowing time for me, but I, Alan T Fox shall prevail. I have started a campaign and am getting a lot of help from people. Here is one human dressed as a fox standing up for my rights outside the houses or parliament campaigning for me to make money from my intellectual property:
Any donations to my cause can be sent to the link attached to the picture of the hamster on the right hand pane. Remember. A fox isn’t just for Christmas.
Thank you for your time.
Alan T. Fox
The 1st and 3rd images are copyright Floog. I suggest you visit his site. The other pictures…hell, I dunno. I filched em from Google Images, but I believe they are in the public domain. If they aren’t, just shout.
wheelturninghamsterdead.com 