My rabbits insist that they're starving to death. They were fed twenty minutes ago but they're already back at their bowl begging. What do?
Hard mode: no rabbit stew, no animal f-ing.
Dear oh dear. You know what you've only gone and done, Ms. Alleged Pet-Mistress?
You're your rabbits' deity. Their sole source of sustenance is your Whim. They've spent their entire Lauren-Hegemony discovering the following: might your rabbit-rationing discipline collapse? They feast! Should your pro-rabbit goodwill shrivel? They starve!
You've compelled your beloved pets to view your hourly temperament wobbles as literal life and death. You've trained them to devote their admittedly finite bunny-brain-power to detecting and exploiting every last personality quirk and cognitive weakness you've ever possessed. You've made every rabbit encounter a vicious psychological Thunderdome. You dingbat.
And looks like they've gained the upper hand! They've already whittled adjacent feast gaps down to twenty friggin' minutes? Good god, girl. Bested by rabbits? Don't be such a softcock, sistah. Fight back! You need to stamp generous dollops of iron discipline forthwith.
You must therefore go medi-frickin'-eee-vil on their too-plump bunny-butt-cheeks. Set up a TV or laptop by their cage and play them the movie Alive on infinite loop, with particular attention to the cannibal scenes. Turn a snow machine upon them. Crucify other rabbits around their cage. (Already-dead rabbits, mind you, don't go actually physically torturing bystanders, we want to confine our rabbit-y agony and torment to the purely psychological.) Barbecue these other rabbits in front of your wards incredibly slowly. Then consume the barbecued rabbits in the most orgasmic way you know how. Then start sharpening a really massive pair of butchers' cleavers and give your pets MEANINGFUL LOOKS.
By now it should once more be their 20-minute dinnertime. Drizzle sparse rabbit-munchies into their bowls. Or styrofoam peanuts if they still appear defiant. And inform them you'll let them live this time. THIS time.
They'll never trouble you again. Problem solved π