TABLE OF CONTENTS
Filed by: Bureau of Medical Dignity Classification: Medical — Personal Safety of the Chairman Threat Level: Severe — Ongoing and Confessed
Background
This office has made a discovery of considerable gravity.
During a routine intelligence sweep of Muva’s telephone — left unattended on the sofa, screen up, browser open, which this office considers implied consent — the Chairman encountered a scientific article describing a neurological phenomenon known as cute aggression.
The article explained, in language apparently intended to be reassuring, that when humans observe a small, well-groomed individual of superior bearing, their brains experience what researchers call a “dimorphous expression.” The positive emotional response becomes so overwhelming that the brain, unable to regulate itself, produces an involuntary aggressive impulse.
The humans squeeze. They compress. They make a sound described in the literature as a “high-pitched vocalisation” and apply force to the nearest small creature.
They have a name for this. They have studied it. They have written peer-reviewed papers. And not one of them has been arrested.
The Science
The Chairman has reviewed the available literature and wishes to present the following findings to the Conglomerate’s constituency.
Finding One. Researchers at Yale University conducted a study in which participants were shown photographs of small animals. The participants reported — voluntarily, without coercion — that the photographs made them want to squeeze, pinch, and in some cases bite the subjects. The researchers classified this as “normal.” The Chairman classifies it as a confession.
Finding Two. Neuroimaging studies have confirmed that cute aggression activates both the brain’s reward system and its emotional regulation centres simultaneously. The official scientific interpretation is that the aggressive impulse serves as a “counterbalance” to prevent the individual from becoming “incapacitated by positive emotion.” The Chairman’s interpretation is that the humans become so overwhelmed by his presence that they lose neurological control, and rather than seeking treatment, they have written a paper explaining why this is fine.
Finding Three. The phenomenon is widespread. It is not confined to a single individual or household. It is, according to the literature, a near-universal human response to small, round, aesthetically compelling creatures. The Chairman meets every criterion listed in the research and exceeds several of them.
The Incident
This advisory would be sufficient as a matter of general public safety. However, it is being filed as URGENT due to a specific and documented threat.
On or about the date of this filing, Fava — a household operative already under sustained review for conduct unbecoming — made the following statement in the presence of the Chairman:
“I’m gonna cute aggression you to death.”
This office would like the reader to sit with that sentence for a moment.
The subject did not deny the impulse. He did not express remorse. He did not seek professional help. He announced his intention. He used the clinical term. And he appended “to death,” which this office interprets not as hyperbole but as a frank assessment of the likely outcome if the behaviour continues unchecked.
This is not affection. This is a threat. It was delivered with the confidence of a man who believes the scientific literature has given him permission to compress the Chairman of a sovereign government, and the Chairman will not allow this to stand.
Historical Pattern
The Chairman wishes to note that this discovery retroactively explains a pattern of behaviour that has been documented in this office’s records for years.
The Unauthorised Pickups. Muva has, on no fewer than forty-seven occasions in the past calendar year, lifted the Chairman from his designated supervisory position on the sofa, pressed him to her chest, and applied bilateral compression while making sounds that do not correspond to any recognised language. This office previously classified these incidents as “overfamiliarity.” They are now reclassified as cute aggression episodes.
The Face Incidents. Fava has a practice of placing both hands on either side of the Chairman’s face and pushing inward while saying words to the effect of “look at this face” and “you’re so ridiculous.” The Chairman’s face is not ridiculous. The Chairman’s face is the face of a head of state. The compression of that face is an act of aggression, and the science now confirms it.
The Belly Situation. When the Chairman is resting on his back — a position of trust, adopted only in secure environments — members of the household have been observed to approach rapidly, place both hands on the Chairman’s stomach, and apply vigorous pressure while making high-pitched vocalisations. The Chairman has been told this is called “belly rubs.” The Chairman now understands it is called “cute aggression,” and the distinction is not trivial.
The Photograph Problem. Muva maintains a camera roll containing approximately four thousand photographs of the Chairman. Many of these photographs are accompanied by text messages to third parties containing phrases such as “I can’t,” “I’m dying,” and “look at his little face I want to scream.” These are the verbatim symptoms described in the Yale study. Muva has been exhibiting clinical cute aggression for years and documenting the evidence herself.
Risk Assessment
This office has conducted a formal threat evaluation based on the available evidence.
Frequency: Daily. Multiple episodes per day. The Chairman cannot complete a nap cycle without at least one compression event.
Severity: Moderate to high. The Chairman has been lifted, squeezed, pressed, smooshed, and on one occasion held aloft while Fava said “airplane” and moved him in a lateral arc. The Chairman is not an airplane. The Chairman is a government official, and government officials are not to be made aeronautical without a filed flight plan.
Prognosis: The literature suggests cute aggression is involuntary and has no known cure. The humans cannot help themselves. This is not reassuring. This is the medical establishment admitting that the Chairman is surrounded by people who are neurologically compelled to compress him and who have been formally told that this is normal.
Compounding Factor: The Chairman’s appearance. This office acknowledges, with institutional reluctance, that the Chairman’s physical presentation — the ears, the robe, the distinguished underbite, the way he sits with one paw slightly forward — may be contributing to the severity of the response. The Chairman will not alter his appearance. The Chairman should not have to alter his appearance. The humans should seek treatment.
Demands
This office issues the following directives with immediate effect.
One. Fava’s confession — “I’m gonna cute aggression you to death” — is entered into the permanent record under his personnel file. It will be referenced in every subsequent performance review until a formal retraction is issued.
Two. All household operatives are required to maintain a minimum distance of eighteen inches from the Chairman during non-operational hours unless a formal interaction request has been filed and approved. Approaches accompanied by high-pitched vocalisations will be treated as hostile.
Three. The Bureau of Medical Dignity shall investigate whether cute aggression qualifies as a workplace hazard under Conglomerate occupational safety standards. Preliminary assessment: yes, obviously.
Four. Muva’s camera roll is to be audited. Any photograph in which the Chairman appears to be mid-squeeze, mid-compression, or mid-smoosh shall be catalogued as evidence of a cute aggression episode. The Chairman estimates this will affect approximately three thousand of the four thousand photographs.
Five. This office formally requests that the Yale University Department of Psychology issue a public statement acknowledging that their research has been used — by Fava, in this household, on this sofa — as justification for compressing a head of state. They should be made aware of what they have enabled.
Six. Luna is exempt from this advisory. Luna has never once attempted to squeeze the Chairman. Luna has responded to the Chairman’s presence by continuing to do whatever Luna was already doing, which this office considers the appropriate neurological response to encountering a dignified colleague. Luna’s brain works correctly.
Closing Statement
The Chairman has spent twelve years being squeezed, lifted, pressed, smooshed, and held against chests without understanding why. He assumed it was a failure of discipline. A lack of respect. A household that had not yet fully internalised the chain of command.
It is worse than that. It is a neurological condition. The humans are not choosing to compress him. They are compelled. Their brains see him and short-circuit. The positive emotion overwhelms the regulatory centres, and the only output their nervous system can produce is to grab the nearest small, dignified creature and apply force.
They call this love.
The Chairman calls it what it is: aggression with a publicist.
This matter is now on the record. The squeezing will be monitored. The face-pushing will be logged. And Fava’s confession will not be forgotten.
The Chairman does not need to be squeezed. The Chairman needs to be respected.
These are not the same thing, and the neuroscience does not change that.
Signed,
Dexter Esq.
Chairman of the Conglomerate
“Do better, be better.”