As with most Singaporean stories, it all starts with yet another cyclical conversation between two friends at a coffeeshop. Brendan laments about life to Johnson, who's seemingly ignoring him and trying hard to order his fourth teh-peng (iced milk tea) from the roaming Uncle.

Brendan goes on about how his two little guinea pigs magically became five, his room smelling like a farm with hay consumption getting out of hand and well, sore hands from carrying heavy bags of hay home.

"I just wish there's a way to bring in all the hay in the world." Brendan roughs his hair up in frustration.

"Yeah, we can name it Hay There." Johnson interrupts, proudly patting himself on the back, quite literally.

"Huh? Were you even listenin-" Brendan was surprised that his words didn't fall to deaf ears.

"It shall be called HAYTHERE.SG. LITTLE PETS OF SINGAPORE, REJOICE!" proclaims Johnson.

The End.

At least, that's the first part of the story. The rest of it is simply dry, hair-pulling calculations to see how they can provide a convenient monthly delivery of affordable, high-quality Timothy Hay for the little pet lovers in Singapore, without resorting to eating hay for meals themselves eventually.

- Authored by Johnson, which is kind of weird, considering that everything is in third person.