The Clog

You might call this entry a “Fantasy”, but I like to call it a “Feel Good” story. Either way, it’s a mini escape, and perhaps a bit of “food for thought”. Enjoy, xxoo.

They had always had access; access was easy. It had been a not-so-secret secret for decades. The tunnels were intricate, yet direct. Once under the main source, it was a vertical climb up to the White House kitchen, where stealth moves were required to sneak beneath tables, alongside blazing hot stoves, towards the massive mother-load. The pantry was easy to raid. Entire loaves of bread could go missing, without anyone noticing. They were careful to avoid leaving a crumb trail, and the growing rat family stayed healthy and happy.

Every few years there was a turnover, and the food staples would change. The rats were more than relieved that the prior host was gone, as there had been a severe shortage of starches and processed food for far too long. Eight years to be exact. The new tenants were a welcome supplier of white bread, processed crackers, yellow cheeses, as well as a plethora of fast food items to be pilfered from the trash bins. The rats gained weight, and within a year a few had become too fat to get through the tunnels. This was when a disaster occurred. Two of the rats got jammed inside the mainline to the kitchen, causing a major back up. They needed help, and they knew just who to ask. The snakes would have to be called in. Sure, they’d risk losing the two fat buddies, but collateral damage was a burden they’d simply have to shoulder. The boa constrictors resided in the sewers of the surrounding city. An escapee from the zoo had mated with a female who was let loose by a shitty pet owner. They bred, and now the family of snakes had countless cousins, all living within the under water system of D.C.

The oversized elderly rat informed the snake boss of their “clog” problem. Gathering his extended family around, the boas eagerly headed through the underground tunnels with ease, slipping and sliding through, until they reached the trapped rats. After devouring the “blockage”,  the five boas swiftly continued along route towards the jackpot. Upon arriving in the kitchen, they slithered silently behind the walls towards the pantry. By now, it was late, and there were workers busy stocking up for the next week, so they decided to bypass the kitchen and check out the second floor. Silently, they headed up a narrow opening behind an ancient dumb waiter, and emerged onto the dimmed upper chambers floor. In the stagnant air, the snakes detected a strong scent of chicken as they slithered along the dark red Persian carpets, and felt their way against the fake gilded moldings. It was well past midnight, when the lead snake paused. He heard the sound of a cell phone pinging. He slowly headed towards the noise, which was coming from behind a door. A weak stream of light leaked from the crevices. The smell of chicken filled his nostrils. He waited there for his partners to catch up. They gathered by the base of the door, contemplating how to flatten enough to slide beneath it. Aligning themselves, the five snakes pressed together as one.

Silently, they burst through, and into the bathroom where they saw a large fat man in a white hotel robe, hunched over on a gold toilet. His eyes were closed as he ate KFC from a box on the shelf, holding a phone in his free hand. He was too busy to notice, as the snakes headed towards him. One gripped each of his legs, and wrapped tightly around the limbs, as the other three slid up behind the toilet, winding effortlessly around his thick neck. In unison they began to squeeze. The giant lurched forward, and tried to yell, but no sound came out, other than a loud belch. A half- eaten chicken leg dropped to the gold tiled floor, followed by his cell phone, which shattered into pieces. His heavy head flopped down, a stringy yellowed hairpiece flapping forward over his distorted face. Large dirty dentures clattered to the floor. The man’s stomach bulged, and he let out a long fart. The snakes untethered themselves, and snatched the remaining fried chicken. With that, they seamlessly slipped under the door. Making their way down the halls, they passed a few of the rats along the way, sharing a swift knowing glance. With a low hiss, they headed towards the exit tunnel, disappearing back into the underworld of D.C.

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