Batmouseacock

Batmouseacock

So, I had a lovely evening with my 2 cousins. We had Mexican food, went to Water Fire in Providence, and then had ice cream. All in all, a splendid night with cousins Laura and little Sam.

Until I came home.

I heard a weird sound, a squeaking, scratchy, scary sound behind my fridge. My heart started to pound, palms sweaty, already reaching for a Valium (a girls gotta have a supply of these). I grab my tiny, yellow flashlight and take a look. (Meanwhile the two felines in my house are oblivious to the horrific sounds emanating and continue to sit on kitchen floor and lick themselves...that's it...I'm getting a German Shepard).

I see a blob, shapeless...the squeaking continues. My sympathetic nervous system is now in overdrive and I now fear a stroke is imminent! I run away into my bedroom and every time I approach the fridge, the sound gets louder. I live all alone. My boyfriend lives in Boston (this is unacceptable, move already). So, I call the only other man who may come to my rescue...dear old dad. My bro answers the phone and he can't come because he just took his psych meds and is doped up and he already drives like an 80 year old man so we certainly don't need him on the road at midnight. He wakes my dad.

Dad: Huh? What do you want? (He is so charming)

Me: There is an unidentifiable blob behind my fridge and it is squeaking. My fridge's electrical cord is moving....THE BLOB IS MOVING THE CORD!!!!!" Can you please come over?

Dad: Oh, come on...I'm in bed. Just spray it with something.

Me: I can't! I need HELP! It could KILL me! Fine, I'll call Rhian, he'll come down.

Dad: Okay, let me know what happens.

So, I arrange to pick Rhian up (ever the wonderful bf). He gets on redline and I am on my way to Quincy.

Five minutes later, my dad calls....

Dad: Can you still hear it?

Me: Yeah, I'm going to pick Rhian up at train station so he can kill it.

Dad: DON'T MAKE HIM COME ALL THEC WAY DOWN HERE! That is RIDICLOUS!!!

Me: But...you said you wouldn't...

Dad: I'm on my way....call him off!

(Ringing Rhian..."uh, you can go home now...sorry"). He is back on red line in other direction...not sure why he puts up with my high-maintenance behavior.

So, my dad comes over...investigates....does not hear sound....or see anything (Meanwhile, cats still licking themselves and ignoring my plight).

My dad concludes I am hearing things and I am a lunatic. ("Great, now I have 2 kids who hear things that aren't there!") My dad will be 70 this year and he obviously has decided to lose his hearing tonight.

I am alone again.

Squeak. Squeak. Scratchy, scratchy.

Begonia's ears have perked up and she is now fixating on the baseboard heating vent thing. I hear the noise even more now and....oh, holy fuck....I think I just saw some sort of tentacle.

There is a batmouseacock in my house. It is bat-like b/c of the high pitched squeaking, mouse-like b/c a mouse would be the most logical thing, and cock like b/c (get your mind out of the gutter)....I believe it is crossed with the insect family somehow. It is a mutated form of all these things and it is in my house and I am all alone with 2 felines who are now napping.

God help me....since he is busy probably helping people with more serious problems like starvation and natural disasters....I found the next best solution.

Valium.

I now realize why women get married. To have a fucking man in the house save yo ass from mutated mammal-rodent-insect creatures.

Thank you for your time and attention.

I hope I live through the night...