I've seen such books as "The Tao of Pooh" and "The Te of Piglet". What is it about stuffed animals that makes people want to emulate them?
Dammit, she was drop-dead gorgeous and barely owned two braincells to rub together, and then she liked her stuffed rabbits better than -him-? He had paid puddles of sweat for those muscles, and the solarium hadn't been cheap, either. Oh well, it couldn't be helped. Perhaps he should give up this boring, non-scoring stud life, and return to his writer's career. At least, with his new looks, he'd be sure to get chicks at those Bohemian publishers' parties.
He didn't slam the door as he left. She wouldn't have noticed anyway.