*not part of the event.))
It was a particularly awkward case on the job today. Cyrus didn't find much joy in the workplace he had been employed; it was a thankless, grimy job and he'd much rather have ended up in the bakery or something, yeah, he'd look stupid, but he wouldn't have to be poking around people's houses looking for rats or cockroaches all day, goddamn.
A family of rats had lovingly decided to settle in this suburban, white-picket fence sort of family's basement, and of course the wife couldn't deal with such things. Cyrus and Isis had been called over, and though he could deal with the house-owner's less than pleasant persona, he wasn't much one to deal with the comments that were uttered.
Irregardless, Cyrus head down to the basement and muttered a few choice words in the house-owner's direction before surveying the surroundings. The rat's nest, obviously, was not in plain sight but judging by the stink that pervaded the area, of urine and feces, it was certainly there. Unless the house-owner had taken to shitting in his own basement, and frankly Cyrus found this scenario much more amiable.
A few crossed arms, tuts and floor crawls later, he began following the stink to it's greatest source, and found the rat's home behind a sack of charcoal and an old cardboard box full of old literary novels, the kind you could pick up from the train station for a few dollars.
"Ooh, this looks like it'll be fun." Cyrus muttered, while half-contemplating dropping the pests some cheese and playing some Barry White in the background to set the mood. Get a whole rat conglomerate going, and they can feast on some James Patterson to finish off the night.
