Today, Dear Readers of Wonderous Magicalness, I bring you...GUEST ART from JRose from Da Cheeseblarg! OMG!
I know I know, you admire me for knowing her personally (for ten years), and now you want to worship me and have my babies and have hot sex with me. But really, you should already want to do all that. What's wrong with you?
Sorry. Moving on.
Today, I also bring you the next installment in the Demon Mouse saga. Sadly, since my last post, I think the mouse either moved out of my walls, deciding they really weren't all that tasty after all, or died a horrible death of suffocation and starvation. Either way, I'm not being woken up anymore by the little bastard having his midnight snack. Why yes, I AM heartless, thanks for noticing. :D
One night, after watching the Green Hornet, I was just about to go to sleep, when suddenly, I heard the loudest, most violent scratching and chewing yet. It sounded like Demon Mouse was trying to claw its way out of my closet. It SOUNDED like he was just on the other side of the closet door, waiting for me to open the door so he could launch himself onto my face and begin devouring my eyeballs.
Upon hearing this disturbing noise, first I peed myself, then after cleaning that up, I went in search of a weapon. This "weapon" turned out to be my broom. Hey, what would you choose when facing a closet-dwelling mouse with evil intentions? The gun was INSIDE the closet with the mouse, and my landlord would have serious problems if I shot holes in the closet. (Stupid bitch)And all the sharp knives that were bigger than a steak knife were ALSO inside the closet with the mouse. Hmmm. Seems The Mouse has more than just claws and fangs for weapons. I've now armed it with a gun and several large, sharp daggers. Way to go, self. Why not just give it a damn flamethrower while you're at it?
So, armed with my broom, I stood in front of the closet door in my granny panties (totally mouse-defeating armor. If it doesn't scare him to death, he'll laugh himself to death instead) and tried to work up the courage to open the door.
This is when I realized that I had shit for courage, and needed back up. Since my three year old was asleep, I decided to go in search of my brave and totally-going-to-eat-the-mouse-and avenge-my-closet dog.
Once I found her, we both stood in front of the closet. Me with my trusty broom, her with her fucked up teeth. She's a shih tzu, you see. But once the mouse started clawing and chewing again, it became apparent very quickly that my dog wasn't going to do shit to back me up or avenge my closet.
Upon uttering this, she took one look at me, eyed a "fuck this shit" look at me, and crawled under the bed.
This is when I realized that I wasn't about to open that closet door. Not in this lifetime anyway, and set aside my broom. Then, for the next 5 minutes I tried convincing my pussy dog to come out from under the bed. But after uttering 80293842 profanities, including things like "You're in the room WITH IT, you stupid fuck!" and "Fine! Stay here with the demon mouse! I'll collect your remains in the morning!' and she STILL wouldn't emerge, I gave up, closed the bedroom door, and camped out on the couch.
Yeah, so I'm not willing to face an evil, face-eating mouse. But if zombies ever attacked or vampires, I'd be SO kicking some ass then. Or hiding under the bed with my dog. Whichever.