You sell the rest of your squirrel stock to Titan Industrys
From Infictive
You deliver the frozen furry rodents to Mr. Titan, who claims he needs them for research purposes. You're just dropping them off with his usual delivery on the Orbital Transfer Unit. He's attempting to develop anti-pest field broadcast and these cute little unsuspecting spy-cicles are perfect test subjects. He walks across the airship, sitting the block of ice down on the nitrogen powered makeshift stove and to thaw little critters out. He turns the knob 84 degrees clockwise, and stands returning to sign the waiver stating he has the proper credentials to be handling such specimen. You inform him you'll also need a copy of the credentials. He digs around for hours looking for them, all the while forgetting his rodents are thawing their way to freedom aboard his ship.
