I awoke the other morning to a rather bizarre series of
events. As I lay lazily on my bed, within the later hours of the
morning, an overtly feminine scream reverberated throughout my dog
box like bedroom. The proximity of the lady's anguish was surely
within my residence I concluded with both concern and bewilderment.
Having never been one to ignore a damsel in distress, I leaped out
of bed in assistance. I quickly grabbed my towel and wrapped myself,
ensuring that my morning glory was well hidden, and bounded out the
door. To my complete and utter surprise I found my 6'2" Canadian
housemate Cletus ( who assures me he wasn't teased a child) staring
rather cowardly at the scarce remains of a rat on our doorstep. What
followed seemed to be a perfectly executed 'minute's silence' in
which, I struggled desperately against the desire to blurt, " you
bloody pansy picker". It was Cletus who finally broke the
increasingly uncomfortable hush with "pretty gross hey?," "Yeh?" I
conceded.
The rat that lay before us was nothing more than a pool of blood,
a head, a tail, and what seemed to be a kidney. " Don't stress dude,
I'll clean it up" I offered and casually strolled back into my
bedroom. I plonked myself purposefully onto my bed and began to
think. The rat, although largely abhorred by society, deserves to
have a story an obituary perhaps. Don't get me wrong I wasn't about
to begin handing out certificates of appreciation to the dozens of
festy rodents roaming the streets of Busan, but a simple note to
dissolve the anonymity of the carcass sitting on my balcony became
necessary. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the story of the dead
rat.
Fugly (abbreviation for F#%king ugly) was sprawled out casually
on his bedding of plastic wrappings and assorted road trash, easily
available on the streets of Korea. For the past hour he had lain
somberly contemplating how his unsuccessful life had come to be. In
the journey that is life, this poor fellow had suffered some very
cruel twists of fate indeed. Fugly was 5 years old, late middle
aged, by rat standards. He had been the Twelfth and last born of his
litter. When he had appeared covered in afterbirth and associated
membranes his mother had proclaimed in repulsion" that is the most
heinous creature I have ever seen. Get it away from me, its f$%king
ugly?" From that day on Fugly had existed as the bane of his
family's s fortunes. Today, he was a failure, an underfed and
grossly deformed rodent. Let me describe him for you. He had the
lower part of his tail missing, from a failed attempt at fishing for
cockroaches in a nearby drain. He often grimaced at recalling his
stupidity for overlooking the fact that a cockroach has two sets of
razor sharp teeth. In compensation for his depleted tail he had
acquired an abnormally sized left testicle, which, on most rats
would have remained well hidden amongst the fur growing in their
loins. Predictably, Fugly did not enjoy this luxury. Several months
prior, he had been the victim of a ruthless skin disease, which had
rendered his crutch and anal areas devoid of, lets face it, privacy.
Coupled to these dramatic disasters was the fact that Fugly was
naturally no oil painting. He had a set of glassy, beady little eyes
which, perpetually portrayed the image of a sixties university
student and his ears resembled the dorsal fin of Free Willy, limp
and defeated. As for his teeth, you could not imagine a bigger set
of front chompers, even if you tried. He was a gruesome creature
that was for sure, but he had a good heart, a few sympathizers would
comment as he lumbered by in a protective manner, developed as a
means of avoiding the pain associated with bumping his left
private.
He did have a good heart Fugly regularly conceded to himself
surmising; its that or I am indefinably stupid. Many a rat would
have simply fled upon receiving the news that he had gotten Young
Parks youngest daughter pregnant. Young Park was the last descendant
of Abraham Randolph Rat, who alone was responsible for the plagues
of Israel described in the Old Testament, Our Holy Bible. As such,
Mr. Park not only commanded the position of chief magistrate, but he
also enjoyed the freedom to stamp out the ugliest of rats in his
particular region, rodent genocide if you like. Fugly fondly
reminisced of the night that he and Henrietta had so innocently
indulged in the primal pleasures of copulation. As luck would have
it though, a gestation period of 30 days, followed by 13 hopelessly
dependant offspring soon dispelled the innocence associated with
such an act. With that he heard his wife scream a vicious ultimatum?
Fugly, if you don't get up this very minute I'm gonna rip off your
head and shit down your throat". What a feral he sighed as he rolled
out of bed to the right side, again the private issue, and rose to
become the breadwinner of his miserable little family.
Brutus, our unlikely hero, was bored. He had lain around all day
long depressed with the humiliation of the night prior where, he had
become the laughing stock of the worldwide feline community. His
human master, a kindly old lady, had entered him in the Guinness
book of records fat cat competition. "Sure I'm a tad shapely around
the edges" he had dribbled "but the fattest cat in the world, surely
not" The final words of the officials still rang unrelentingly in
his head ?and weighing in at 4.5 Kilograms the winner is Brutus? He
was not a happy camper at all. Brutus had been pampered his whole
life. He had eaten freely and rarely saw the need to pursue his
traditional feline instincts. Instead, he preferred rub himself up
against his owners legs and sit comfortably by the fire. He had
become so complacent that he didn't even feel the desire to sharpen
his claws on the surrounding furniture. Yes indeed, Brutus had lead
a charmed life in the sanctuary created by his aging master. He had
none of the problems seen by his fellow Kittys, the rum and milk
cocktails or the passive inhaling of spliffs. One case particularly
horrified him; two children cruelly threw his high school buddy into
the air, several times with a somersault action, to be simply amazed
at how he always ended up landing on his feet. Anyway, the aftermath
of being named the fattest cat on earth was yielding a far more
terrifying prospect for Brutus, diet.
He could not remember the last time his master had failed to
provide him with his two pounds of bacon for breakfast, and the dry
cat food he received for lunch was nothing in comparison to the
usual full grown turkey he devoured. In addition, the appearance of
the book ' diet for felines- when enough is enough' on the lounge
room coffee table was sending shivers up his spine every time he
looked at it. It was now dinnertime and Brutus was convulsing with
hunger pains, he was so hungry that he was actually contemplating
chewing his own arm off in response. One less leg, what's it matter,
three are just as good as four, he drooled crazily. With that the
lady of the house appeared with his dinner, a can of sardines and a
handful of dried cat food. Brutus couldn't believe it, for the whole
day he hadn’t even eaten enough to necessitate backing one out into
the kitty litter. This was bad, really really bad. Something had to
be done, he could feel his animalistic tendencies erupting though
his body, the widening of his pupils, the stretching of his limbs
and the ferocity associated total cannibalism. Yep, this cat was
getting gnarly indeed and surprisingly, Brutus found himself
becoming strangely titillated by his newfound venom, "you is the
man" he strutted before plonking himself on the woolly rug before
the fireplace in exhaustion. A little snooze and then he would be
off into the night to fend for himself he asserted.
Fugly had had a terrible night, if narrowly escaping being mauled
by a ferocious cocker spaniel wasn't bad enough, the fact that he
had urinated on himself upsetting his sensitive skin disease, was a
disaster. To the observer he must have appeared to be the most
ridiculous sight as he wandered along scratching at his balding
genitalia. Could it get any worse? I think we all know the answer to
that question.
Something startled Brutus to awaken, he was revived and hungry.
It was time to get out there, put his hat in the ring or bring home
the bacon. He cared not for the cliche associated with his actions,
he just needed to eat. In an effort to limber up he did a push up,
then another three quarters of a push up, then half. He was warm he
shuddered. With that, Brutus embarked on a mission he had never
known although, somehow he felt guided by his instincts. He calmly
negotiated the flap in the back door, a tight squeeze but he made
it, and into the night he ventured. Instantly, the scents of
nocturnal activity struck his newly heightened senses. He could
smell birds, rodents, bugs and of course dogs, he was alive.
Fugly had had enough, he knew of a rodent safe house nearby and
decided to take a break there for a while. This safe house was so
because in it, resided the fattest cat he had ever seen. As a one
cat's territory, no other cat would enter and as the resident feline
was far to uninspired to pursue any intruders, it became a safe
house. Off he ambled, scratching a clawing as he went. He knew this
house had a fish pond, in which, he could bathe his blistering
affliction. "Arghh!!?he moaned in pre-emptive delight, he was almost
there.
Now lets get one thing straight here, despite Brutus being a
starving, ferocious and unforgiving individual at this point of
time, he was still arguably the laziest cat on earth, even the
widening of his nostrils as he smelled exhausted him. As such, he
had devised a plan to sit tight and wait for his prey to come to
him. “Brilliant? he had concluded. With that he selected a
moderately sized hiding place from which he could pounce on his
victim. Sniff, sniff, he could smell something, it was utterly
repugnant, and disgusting he ventured to suggest, "but delicious it
shall be"he stated in the quavering tone of a homicidal maniac. This
would be his greatest moment.
Into the yard hobbled Fugly and into the pond he dived. The cool
water provided an incredible relief although it was however, short
lived. Underwater, Fugly grappled with fear at what he saw. As he
looked up through the surface of the pond he met the eyes of a cat
who seemed to be suffering the debilitating disease of gigantism. In
his painful disillusionment he had failed to scope the yard, his
goose was cooked, what was he to do?
With his life flashing before him, he let out a gargled cry
"Bring it on fatso, lets end this now" Fugly breached like a
majestic humpback and beached himself nicely on the surrounding
rocks. In an instant he was on his feet, but it was all too late,
Brutus had lunged forward and planted his two fore legs on Fugly.
The poor rat struggled, scratched, bit and twisted; amazingly he
escaped as Brutus' failure to sharpen his claws allowed no grip. Off
and up the stairs Fugly bounded, his enormous testicle swaying from
side to side, and his groins chaffing immeasurably with each step.
Brutus was in hot pursuit, the fattest cat in the world chasing the
ugliest rat on the planet, what a sight it would have been. Halfway
up the steps Brutus was just a stride away when his energy began to
wane. He was grasping for air, Fugly increased his lead and arrived
at the balcony surrounding the upper level. All of a sudden, in a
cruel twist of irony, the rat stumbled and tripped over his
testicle, falling flat on his face. Brutus' eyes lit up, he had him.
He bit down hard into fugly's jugular and held tight until the final
twitches in the hideous creatures body ceased. The rat was dead.
Brutus carried him to the nearby step and before devouring him
recited the following poem which is time honored among the
traditional foes of cats and rats.
I am a cat, you are a rat
We are both equally free
It
was said by our long gone ancestors
That this is how it should
be.
I pity you for your loss of life
And the family that loves
you too
But you are an ugly hideous thing
That would look
better coming out in my poo.
With that Brutus ate.
Fact: Kidneys keep fluids, minerals (such as calcium and
magnesium), and electrolytes (such as sodium and potassium) in
balance while excreting waste products into the urine. Doesn't sound
to tasty does it? I can forgive Brutus for failing to devour this
section of Fugly.
Ladies and gentlemen I hope that I have dispelled the anonymity
associated with the disgusting carcass on my doorstep. This how I
think the rat lived and died. How do you think it all happened?