There are people who keep rats as pets. They’re said to have personality. We have gerbils.
We bought our snake a mouse once, but she wasn’t hungry just then and let it make itself at home in her cage. Slytherin’ Susan and her pet mouse, “Lunch.”
I want another snake. They don’t play the guitar, you know?
I can't remember who told me this, but I understand they rock at "Guitar Hero."
Wait a minute. A memory stirs.
I smacked my forehead. "If you were in a horror movie," I thought to myself, "the audience would leave because you're too stupid to be believable." I knew the rules. ALWAYS make sure the lights work. ALWAYS have a way to contact someone if something goes wrong. ALWAYS have plenty of juice in your flame thrower. I'd violated them all. Now the ooze on the floor had me cornered on top of the rack of tools with nothing to use as a weapon but ...
No, not that memory. The one about the pet rats.