A Bespoke Midnight Bunker

My magnificent tummy demanded a nightcap of uncompromising seclusion, so I waddled right past the couch toward the wooden sideboard where an empty roll-top breadbox sat invitingly open. Naturally, I saw a VIP penthouse suite. I hauled my plump midsection up the low side handle, dropped inside, and used my stubby paws to tug the ribbed wooden slatted door downward. It rumbled shut with an immensely satisfying clatter until it jammed right against my round belly, leaving a sliver of golden living room light across my nose. I nestled into the dry, sweet-smelling cedar curve, completely sealed in like a prized, opulent brioche.