Y'know, Imo's an old man. He's old. If he were human he'd be buying a zimmer frame, yelling at people to speak up and telling stories about his memories of the war. The Boer War.
Yet he still finds the energy to run on that damn wheel of his. And look at him, ears back, tail high, eyes slitted, legs a-pumpin'.
He's keeping in shape.
For what, we're not quite sure. It's probably the end-stage of some evil plan or other. Soon comes the day when we'll be forced to bow before our gerbil masters.