bluevalentine

BlueValentine vs The Thing That Wouldn't Die

or

How Secret of Nimh Taught me Nothing About Liking Rats


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Picture it.

Monday. 1:44am. Your heroine suddenly awakes to what sounds like a horrid "screeeech".

Then. Silence. Maybe it was a dream.

And you hear the cat digging through those bags you had by the front door.

And then again: "SCREEEEEEEEECH"

And you SCREAM. LIKE A GIRL. LIKE A GIRL WHO'S AWAKE AT 1:44 IN THE MORNING BECAUSE THERE IS SOME RODENT IN THE HOUSE.

That's right.

It's dark

And things are being tortured in your house.

You do the only thing you can think of.

You call your ex husband because FUCK, YA'LL! There is a fucking RODENT in the house.

"Hey, this is going to seem like a completely insane question and I know you're going to think I'm dumb but I think there is a mouse in the house and how do I get it?"

"Uhh...Dewey"

"Yeah, Uh...I think he got it already"

(sounds of dog barking)

"Is Truck barking at it?"

"I don't know what's going on. I don't know if he's barking at it or at dewey or what"
(turns on flashlight)

"oh fuck, Dewey has it in its mouth" (trust me, going from sitting in the dark on the phone, just thinking of some mouse in your house to actually seeing your cat with a sizeable creature in its mouth is really really disturbing)

"maybe get dewey to take it outside"

(Cat drops the mouse, causing both the mouse and dewey's owner to scream)

"Fuck this, Jim. I'm going upstairs, closing the door, and I'll deal with this in the morning".

Yes. Avoidance. That is what I am good at.

So I left my 3 killing machines downstairs and took the dog upstairs to my bedroom and shut the door behind me. At least that way the cat wouldn't be able to bring a half dead mouse onto my bed.

I woke at 9am and slowly tiptoed downstairs.

Every step I took, I made sure to survey the area for dead animals or, worse, live ones that were not supposed to be there.

And as I started down the second half of my staircase, there I saw the dead...mouse? rat? how do you know which is which? lying in the middle of my living room.

I called the ex again.

"So, yeah, dewey killed it"

"Thats my boy!"

"yeah, great. So, what do I do"

"You throw it out"

"yeah, but how do I do that without, ya know, coming within, say, 10 feet of it"

"uhh"

"ya know, like, maybe some sort a huge gadget arm I can buy?"

"maybe scoop it up with some newspaper and throw it away"

"Where do I find 10 foot long newspaper? What if I try tto, like, sweep it outside?"

"It might explode"

"wait. mice can do that?"

"yeah, if the cats have been playing with it, it may be all bloated and it may explode"

"Thanks for making me feel better about gettin this thing"

So, finally, I got a cardboard box. a big cardboard box and sorta slid the box around him.

And when I was done? I clapped for myself.


I'm so retarded.