Gone were the shimmering glass skyscrapers of downtown Zaftig City. In this part of town, the skyline was occupied by concrete brutalistic buildings, many of which had tall chimneys that bellowed dark smoke. Nearly every one of the factories were surrounded by uninviting steel fences and barbed wire. As you walked along the cracked pavement road, you didn't see another fur around except for the occasional one waddling by a window inside these grey, unadorned buildings and eclipsing the light temporarily before finally waddling past.
You started to lose hope. It didn't seem like any of these factories or offices or whatever they were seemed open to furs looking for jobs. That is, until you approached a structure far more inviting than the rest. Square and unadorned as the others, this building was a shade of bright white, giving the area a greater sense of liveliness. Light shined from the windows. And there was only a short chain link fence surrounding the premises interrupted by a gate. And at the security gate sat a rotund polar bear in the booth, lazily flipping through today's newspaper.
A large sign hung from either side of the gate. It read...
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