Simon, "Yup, this is based on my own experience and one I wouldn't recommend to anyone, but certain factors gave the rat a little nudge along the way.
Anyway, read on and be pleased that the rat? Well, he has gone now."
It was the two red, beady eyes that got Samuel first. Long after his lovely wife had said, “Enough is enough.” And she was right, but the beady eyes had other plans. As he jumped out of the wall, Samuel too jumped, but out of his skin.
“Come,” said Rat. “We shall take a walk,”
Bemused, dazed, confused and thoroughly, so fucking thoroughly fucked up, Samuel followed his trail. First this way then that, through snowy streets and fires of hell and yet they hadn’t even left the bedroom.
Samuel stole a quick look to his right and his Sleeping Beauty was right there. Sleeping and beautiful.
Rat seemed annoyed at this distraction and snapped his fingers, claws, talons, whatever these little fuckers had.
“Pay attention, Samuel. For the love of God pay attention.” Samue paid attention. He followed him.
“Do you remember her?” he sneered, pointing. “0hhh, my favourite Aunty,” he offered with a rather sarcastic tone. But she was. She was indeed Samuel’s favourite Aunty, him her favourite nephew. Except now Aunty Trisha was a lampshade. A lampshade with a mouth and one that could talk for sure, but still…a lampshade.
Her lips moved up and down giving a silent sermon of disappointment, but as Samuel struggled to hear, Rat tugged at his ankles. And then, strangely enough, because this wasn’t strange enough already, at his shoulders. All without reaching up.
“C’mon old Samuel. No time for family reunions, this is going to get worse before it gets better.”
And then the little fucker nipped at Sam’s ankles.
There seemed to be a melody playing somewhere. A piano from the room downstairs, then a jazz band from the garden next door.
What did Samuel care? Rat and he snapped their fingers (or his whatevers) and danced them a good one. How they laughed! Then Rat disappeared.
“Back in a bit old chap,” and literally went, left Samuel solo, no more fun where that came from. Sleeping Beauty wasn't sleeping anymore, but she sure was still beautiful as she watched from the door, didn't even notice the Rat was gone.
“Get some sleep, Sam. Please don’t keep the kids awake.” And for a few hours, a few glorious hours, Samuel slept. It was the tapping that woke him again.
From the inside of the window, but at the same time the outside, fucking beady eyes Rat was there, like an old lost friend. “Wanna go to the fair?” he asked, his sneaky voice matching his sneaky stance.
“Don’t listen to him Sam,” Sleeping Beauty said. “There is no fair.” "Now we don't know that, do we?" Samuel asked his girl. "Ask Aunty Trisha there. She will tell you."
Aunty Trisha just rolled her lampshade eyes and went back to sleep.
Sam and the Rat, the Rat and Sam, man they would have had them a time on the Waltzers, but Rat bottled it. Sam span on his own until a few bulky boys in blue put the brakes on.
"You haven't paid for this ride, son," said the biggest one. "Now put your shoes on and get in the car."
Sam looked for his friend for backup, but Rat just sat on the roof, watching, laughing, pointing and plotting. And, of course, nibbling on popcorn.
Rat wasn’t there for a while. He didn’t see the flying boy, the kids in tents having fun, so much fun. He didn’t see the football fan throwing balloons at Sam as he tried to speak to the old couple next to him.
He reappeared though. Yes indeed, yes sir, he reappeared. On the man in the white coat’s shoulders, Rat sat there filing his nails as the clever man delivered his deliverance.
"You do know you are quite ill, don't you, Samuel?"
“It’s Sam,” Sam said, distracted by Rat’s choice of nail varnish.
“Sam, Samuel, Ebenezer was a bullfrog, whatever,” continued Whitecoat. "You need to stay with us a while."
“Sure, sure, just tell him to tone that pink down,” Sam said, pointing at Rat.
Whitecoat gave a very polite glance to his shoulder.
"Maybe longer than I thought," he said, tapping Sam's knee and nodding his head as he went away.
“Good,” said Rat.
“Good,” said Sam.
"Let's continue this soiree without him, shall we?"
So, Rat and Samuel linked arms and moved on. What a cinema it was.
"Look my man, we can go over the bad, the good, the ugly and the Sleeping,"
“No,” Sam interrupted him. “You leave her out of this.” Rat shrugged his shoulder in only a way rats can do.
“Nip, nip,” he said. “As you wish.”
“Here be bad things, here be bad men, here be things no one should see.”
“Get on with it, rat," Sam said, any respect he had for him disappearing as quickly as his capital ‘R’.
And so Rat showed Sam the bad things. Sam didn’t like them. Then he showed Sam the good things and his heart yearned for them.
And with that, the bastard left him again.
“Abandon ship rat,” Sam said. “As always.”
Before Sam fell into a fitful, troubled sleep, he felt a furry claw patting him on the head.
“Night,” said Rat.
Turmoil, pain, anguish, men in horror, women forgiving, no way out, every way back in. It was all there in that night.
Jolted awake, there sat Sam’s little un’s and Sleeping Beauty, also very much awake and behind her Rat. No words, no acknowledgement. Just the return of Rat’s capital R.
Behind this crew though, behind all this, sat bad men with guilt in their hearts. They were ignored. They had done enough damage, and played more than their part in this, well, this adventure, I suppose.
Sleeping Beauty and Rat just shook their heads. Sam nodded his.
“Rat,” said Sleeping Beauty. “Would you like to come home for tea?”
Rat nodded and took Sleeping Beauty’s arm.
"Why, that shall be lovely."
The bad men were not happy, but who cared? Sleeping Beauty, Rat and the little ‘un’s went home for tea.
Samuel? Well, Samuel slept for many years knowing Rat was really on his side after all…
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