There's something incomprehensibly hateful in this thing's eyes. The Hedgehog is fed up with your shit. The Hedgehog wonders how on earth you got through the week without tripping over your own staggering incompetence. Or at least that's what you imagine it to think, looking at it.

It's difficult to tell if this thing's biological or mechanical - it's so covered in spikes you can barely see anything beneath them. It emits a quiet growl that could be the sound of grinding gears. Of course, it's equally likely to be a rumbling stomach.

The Hedgehog has never had a good day in all its existence, most likely. Certainly never had a good feed. Maybe you'll fit the bill.