I was looking for something to drink after my long bid at consuming the fried chicken. In my fridge, there were no suds to drink, no ranch to sip, and no milk to contemplate at. I decide that since my illegal income check will only come in a few hours, only then my thirst would grow if I do not drink something soon, I was going to drink some water from the tap.

I grab my gamboge-colored ceramic cup and turned on the sink knob to get the water flowing. What had come to my surprise was not water. It was not polluted water the same color as my cup, but it was a full rat squeezing out of the faucet. It might also be a surprise to say that drinking a rat is way more difficult than drinking water that is or is not polluted.

With its potbellied rat form oozing out of my faucet and slowly dropping down on my cup, there was no coming back from that. An entire rat went into my plumbing and came out of my faucet to drop down into my favorable cup with the impertinence of a chimney sweep dropping down to the fireplace like it was a barbaric portrayal of a young Santa Claus at practice, which was, out of other maggoted things, awful.

I could not throw away the rat from the cup as its bacterial resume had already made nimble contact to the bottom of my cup, and now, along with ever, was not the time to drink any given liquid out of the territory that the rat had just claimed. There was only one other cup in the cupboard left to drink water from. And with me thinking before anything else happens, I decide to use the faucet from the sink bathroom, as opposed to the faucet of the kitchen used before.

I put the cup with the rat down and got the zaffre-colored cup and made my way to the bathroom. With the cup under the faucet, and with my hand on the sink knob, I hoped for the best that water would come out. Any water. With a simple turn and nothing to lose, it was not one rat that came out, but a dozen. And that dozen turned into many more.

Now my sink was filled with rats to the brim. With me turning off the faucet to make sure no other rats come out, I lead the rats out of the bathroom by opening the window. The rats are now just as focused on the window as a group of moths focused on a light-bulb. Now rats were pouring out of the sink terrifically and leading their way to the window where they all jump out after forming a ladder made out of themselves.

After the final rat left my bathroom in peace, I had now realized that I had doomed my neighborhood with rats when I saw them forming a rat crowd in the middle of the road, spreading and dissolving out like a beehive of ants getting stepped on. There were now rats seeping through the cracks of the doors and into the houses. In total worry, I do nothing but close my window, set down the blinds, and made sure I'd never come out of the house and show my face until there were no rats to be seen.