GIANT HONKING RAT
Sep. 14th, 2003 04:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
novembersmithScurvy is inside. SCURVY IS INSIDE.
I don't know that I've ever mentioned this, but we caught sight of Scurvy several weeks ago, lurking around the garbage cans in the front.
"That's a really big possum," Meghan said.
"Nghh!" I replied, and thus was the discovery made that Scurvy is less of a cute Disneyish rat and more of a remnant from the last Ice Age, when rats were the size of Toyotas.
And now he is inside. With us. Skittering away at my goddamn door with his gigantic claws and he's going to gnaw his way through and kill me and live in the hollowed out shell of my corpse.
Jesus.
On the plus side, it's nice to know the name has stuck. Roomies called cell phone an hour ago with the happy news that they'd seen Satan scurrying across the kitchen floor, and screeched, "Lauren, SCURVY CRAWLED UNDER THE FRONT DOOR, HE HAS NO BONES, OH GOD!"
We may have the Devil's Own Rat in our house (did I mention he's painstakingly scratching away my door to devour my living flesh?), but at least he's got a cool name.
Now we all sit in our respective rooms, clutching our respective weapons (would rather have a shotgun or possibly a grenade launcher than a broom, but such is my life), and wait for morning, as if rats were really just small furry vampires that vanish harmlessly in sunlight.
Fuck.
I don't know that I've ever mentioned this, but we caught sight of Scurvy several weeks ago, lurking around the garbage cans in the front.
"That's a really big possum," Meghan said.
"Nghh!" I replied, and thus was the discovery made that Scurvy is less of a cute Disneyish rat and more of a remnant from the last Ice Age, when rats were the size of Toyotas.
And now he is inside. With us. Skittering away at my goddamn door with his gigantic claws and he's going to gnaw his way through and kill me and live in the hollowed out shell of my corpse.
Jesus.
On the plus side, it's nice to know the name has stuck. Roomies called cell phone an hour ago with the happy news that they'd seen Satan scurrying across the kitchen floor, and screeched, "Lauren, SCURVY CRAWLED UNDER THE FRONT DOOR, HE HAS NO BONES, OH GOD!"
We may have the Devil's Own Rat in our house (did I mention he's painstakingly scratching away my door to devour my living flesh?), but at least he's got a cool name.
Now we all sit in our respective rooms, clutching our respective weapons (would rather have a shotgun or possibly a grenade launcher than a broom, but such is my life), and wait for morning, as if rats were really just small furry vampires that vanish harmlessly in sunlight.
Fuck.