It had been two weeks since that ugly, deformed, gnarled, little varmint was here. The fat, gray rat had first sat and glared deep into my soul with those big, beady eyes. I was going to let him live, but he would not leave. He would go eat the freshly baked chocolate spice cake that my wife had baked. When she returned to the kitchen and saw the cake was missing, she would be furious with me. I would try to explain, but she would never listen to me.