Night of the bat
February started out perfectly fine until the new month was almost two hours old, then things started getting a little hinky:
1:55 a.m. Hear clanking noises coming out of what should have been a perfectly silent kitchen.
1:56 a.m. Open office door, see something fluttery black flying in frantic circles and occasionally crashing against the decorative copper plates on the kitchen walls (clank).
1:56:30 HOLY SHIT IT'S COMING RIGHT FOR ME (slam office door)
1:57 a.m. Dash into bedroom, wake up partner and tell him there's a bat in the kitchen.
2:01 a.m. Partner conscious enough to attempt to do something about it.
Best guess is he somehow got into the basement, then crawled/flew up the vent pipes and emerged in our apartment somewhere behind the washer/dryer. Lucky for me he wasn't sick and didn't bite us; if I came down rabid I'd soon be so brain-damaged and frothing-insane, I'd be reduced to working as a TSAgent.
1:55 a.m. Hear clanking noises coming out of what should have been a perfectly silent kitchen.
1:56 a.m. Open office door, see something fluttery black flying in frantic circles and occasionally crashing against the decorative copper plates on the kitchen walls (clank).
1:56:30 HOLY SHIT IT'S COMING RIGHT FOR ME (slam office door)
1:57 a.m. Dash into bedroom, wake up partner and tell him there's a bat in the kitchen.
2:01 a.m. Partner conscious enough to attempt to do something about it.
Best guess is he somehow got into the basement, then crawled/flew up the vent pipes and emerged in our apartment somewhere behind the washer/dryer. Lucky for me he wasn't sick and didn't bite us; if I came down rabid I'd soon be so brain-damaged and frothing-insane, I'd be reduced to working as a TSAgent.
posted by Jennifer Abel at 8:11 AM
2 Comments:
Rabid Imbecile doesn't have the zing of Feral Genius.
Hmph! Fine way to treat an old acquaintance from your Goth days. Hospitality is dead, I say. The Count would never have treated visitors that way.
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