You could say that I was consumed with a vision of what my life would be like when I had a crate of rats in my home. Consumed with the idea that there might be some kind of positive growth associated with the purchase. But I can tell you now, straight faced and solemn, that, friends, if you see a man offering a crate of both live and dead rats on the side of the Interstate, don’t trust his whispers, as they will do nothing but soothe your ear and poison your brain.

What do rats eat? I dropped a turkey slice in there yesterday, but that crate has turned into such a swirling mess that I can barely tell rat from rat anymore. Josiah said that there were forty rats in the crate, and that I was paying a dollar a rat, and that I wouldn’t find a better deal than that elsewhere. I guess not, to be honest. Have they been breeding? Possibly. They’re loud as hell, that’s for sure. And I can’t set the box in the living room anymore because it shakes the TV too damn much.

I’m afraid I’m in over my head here.

So, if you’re out there, and you’re lookin’ for a crate of who knows how many rats, and you’re also looking for a deal, look no further. I will give you the whole thing for ten bucks. I will even carry it out to your vehicle for you. Trust me, I got no use for them. Maybe you’ll have better luck.

Sincerely,

Abe