Why did you name him precious?  He probably got beat up at school because of it.
Precious wasn't my choice of name.  I actually wanted to name the two hamsters I got that day Undertaker and Kane, but the girl that I was with at the time insisted I name him something "cuter".  So don't blame me!

Wait, there's another hamster?
Yes, he's in a separate cage though, so don't even go there.

So tell me about these antics.
Well, I think it all began back when he escaped from his "escape proof hamster hutch".  You see, he pushed up the "safety door" and then pried up the "safety bubble" and got loose in my apartment.  Hey, I was lucky he was in another room, but I had to go to work.  Cutie pie gave up right away (he doesn't like life on the lam), but I had to wait until I got home from work to capture Precious.  Took the better part of a night, but after that he hasn't been the same.  Kind of like a prisoner that tasted freedom, he yearned for escape.

So, afterwards he became this big bastard of the cages (there were two linked by a tube).  While they staked out their own territories, he would just keep terrorizing Undertaker (ok I give up, I feel emasculated every time I type Cutie Pie).  This culminated to this day in October.  They were fighting rather visciously, so I went to go crack open the door (which normally caused Precious to run back into his side of the cage) but instead this time, they pushed their way out, and kind of took a flying leap.  So I reached down to catch them (wise move) cause then I got chomped on pretty brutally. 

So I separated them completely.  Only problem is, Precious still yearned for life on the run.  He soon learned he could pry off the metal part off his old water bottle and drain it (strange things would grow in there, I tell you), all in an attempt to make the "escape proof" door lighter so he could push it out of the way.  To no avail, though.  But, just in case, I bought another bottle with a metal tube.  And so for the past 3 months, every night for 5 hours (and I have no idea how long during the day) he chews and pulls and crunches on the tip of the bottle.  Think fingernails on chalkboard.  Also, every time I reach into the cage to feed him, he bolts like a madman around the cage.

That doesn't sound very psycho.
You don't live with him.  Well, not yet at least.  I'm going nuts!  Besides, what I want is a pet that I can play with.  Having a pint-sized ball of fur that runs from you every time you approach him isn't my idea of a fun pet.