by Rebecca McLeod
Rebecca shares with KRL another fun story from the perspective of her pet rats. This one may resemble a certain musical.
Cast of Characters:
Spotty Boy: a plump Dalmatian rat
Tommy: the patriarch
Captain Smudge: a fabulous gay rat
Chef Morgan: a giant, Buddha-shaped rat who knows the zen art of cookery
Zander: the leader
Dexter the Rexter: convinced that the zombie hamster apocalypse is nigh
El Dorado: the dirty uncle but in rat form
Linus: A cheeky young rat
Gonzo: a hairless hermaphrodite rat, mother of ten babies with El Dorado
Bob: a gentle, soft-spoken rat
“Lookit what we caught!” hollered Linus as he and the other baby boys scampered up from their latest expedition. The four young boy rats were dragging a fish by a length of fishing line still attached to the hook in its mouth. Behind them waddled Zander and Dexter. Dexter wore an army helmet and a machete strapped to his curly-furred back. Those zombie hamsters weren’t going to catch him unprepared.
It was Father’s Day and the rats were celebrating as only rats can celebrate. Tommy the patriarch had donned his KISS THE COOK apron and stood at the George Foreman grill, turning corn cobs and veggie kabobs carefully; at the picnic table, Chef Morgan was making potato salad in a bowl big enough for the rats to bathe in. Captain Smudge the gay rat was tanning in a lounge chair and wearing only a Speedo (he had some decidedly European tendencies like that, along with bespoke tailoring); El Dorado was floating on the kiddie pool in an inner tube (with a little Daiquiri to help keep cool); and now Zander and the kids had come back from their expedition to a nearby stream.
“Kids, that’s not going to fit on the Foreman,” mildly remarked Tommy, looking at the rat-sized rainbow trout. “Where in the name of Cheeses did you find a trout stream?”
“Over there. I don’t mind, I can eat it raw,” replied Linus. “I bet Mr. Chef Morgan can make squishy!”
Chef Morgan stepped forward.
“It is ‘sushi’, young Grasshopper, and I will do no such thing. Pan-frying is in order.”
“Aw nuts, that’ll take forever!” protested Linus. Chef Morgan gave him a stern look.
“Must I sit on you, impudent one?”
“No,” sullenly replied the little blue male.
“Good. Start mincing garlic.”
“Captain Smudge could teach him how to mince!” called El Dorado cheekily, flipping the page of his magazine Pentcage. Smudge snorted.
“I am above your nonsense. Furthermore,” he added, “the so-called true stories in that magazine are all fake. Does would never do any of those silly things.”
“How would you know?” demanded El Dorado.
Captain Smudge lowered his sunglasses to look smugly at the other rat.
“Unlike some people I could mention, I spend quite a bit of time in the beauty salon. I have heard does talk about everything from ear wiggling to tail bleaching and I can assure you that they haven’t the slightest interest in the antics that your magazine describes. They are lovely, dignified creatures with refined senses that we can only hope to emulate.” He pushed his sunglasses back up and lay down again to enjoy the sun.
El Dorado was looking forlornly at his magazine when he was interrupted by a piercing shriek from the nearby lake. He dropped his drink and threw his magazine to dry ground.
“Someone’s drowning; c’mon kids, let’s save the day!” shouted Zander, leaping into action. While Tommy and Chef Morgan stayed behind to take care of the cookery, the other rats raced toward the lake shore. They stopped when they hit the sand, though, and couldn’t look away.
The does had jet-skis. Clad in frilly little bikinis and lifejackets, the does were racing each other up and down the lake, whooping and yelling. In addition to the jet-skis, a motorboat zoomed by with Bob and Gonzo on water-skis. Gonzo, despite only having one eye, was determined to get fancy and was doing all sorts of leaps, crossing in front of Bob who was in an advanced state of terror.
“Where the Cheeses did they get those?” marveled Linus. Zander whacked him up the side of the head.
“Language. No cussing until you’re one.”
“How come we don’t have jet-skis?” demanded Linus.
The does spotted the new-comers and pulled over at the dock. Their faces were not entirely friendly as they trotted up to the bucks.
“Where is my child support cashews, huh?” demanded Gonzo. “I raised ten babies for you!”
“I mailed ‘em, I swear,” mumbled El Dorado, hunting around for an escape route.
“We gotta trout and Mr. Chef Morgan is cooking it and we got potato salad and corn onna cob,” interrupted Linus,
“Would that work, Mrs. Gonzo?”
“That’s a start,” replied Gonzo as the does joined the bucks back at the picnic site. The bucks didn’t dare protest as the ladies started chowing down on the goodies. They had extra helpings of everything.
“It’s Father’s Day, y’know,” mumbled El Dorado.
Gonzo paused mid-bite.
“You know how long you was a father? Four and a half seconds. Maybe only three.”
“Hey!” protested El Dorado, ears blushing as everyone cracked up. Bob looked shocked.
“Don’t laugh too hard, Tommy,” warned Gonzo, “I has heard stories about you from Psyche.”
Linus leaned over and whispered to Captain Smudge.
“Delicate and refined?”
“Shut up and eat your trout,” serenely replied Smudge.
Happy Father’s Day!
Check out more of Rebecca’s rat stories in KRL’s rodent ramblings section.