You know that classic love story where the sailor looks across the room, sees the girl, turns to his buddy, and says, “See that lass? I’m gonna marry her someday”? That’s sort of what happened between me and chocolate mousse on a sunny June morning in Paris, France. You might be wondering where I’m going with this. The answer is nowhere, I just thought I’d mention it.

Anyway, here’s the thing about bats. They sleep upside down. And I’m not going to pretend I haven’t tried it. Sometimes, I let my head hang off of the side of my bed and try to fall asleep to see if I’ll be a bat when I wake up. It usually ends up with a lot of blood flooding my brain, which I hopefully notice before I pass out, go into a coma, and die. In other words, don’t try to become a bat.

One time, I saw a mouse by the cupboard in my house. It was crapping all over the place. You know those little brown pellets? Anyway, I shrieked and jumped on top of a table. What? No…I’m not afraid of mice. This one just so happened to have a bomb strapped to its chest. Luckily, you can’t get much of an explosion from a bomb that tiny, so it ended up making a hole in a bag of chips nearby, but not much else. After the one mouse blew itself to pieces, the rest of the mouse family came out to feast on the chips. True story. Anyway, I guess those are the sacrifices that have to be made with this new reinforced plastic.

There’s one more kind of small animal I want to talk about. Rats. I hate rats. Always telling on people. One time, in class, I threw a pencil across the room and it bounced off of a kid’s head and landed in the pencil sharpener, and when the teacher asked who’d done it, this kid Brian ratted on me. What a small animal. The tiniest of animals, if you ask me.

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