He leapt from his desk top, bounced across the carpet, and dragged me bodily from the chair. I grabbed feebly at his wrists. My arms and legs flopped as he shook me. The tiger scuttled closer, clicking. "I hate you," he roared. "I hate everything you stand for! I’m sick of your Clique and their philosophies and their pudding smiles. You’ve killed a good friend with your meddling.