Another Purple Penis Story

Juan no hablo ingles. He didn’t understand it well. But he understood one thing.
Willy’s willy was important. “Muy, muy important”, William said.  Senor Afton was better known as William, but he also went by Will, Willy, or on his good days, “Billy-boy”. Dios forbid you call him “Silly Willy”.

A rat had made off with William’s willy. This was indisputable. During a cleaning session, one of the numerous pests within Circus Baby’s domain had pilfered a penis. It was now the rodent’s rod. They scurried off into the deeper depths of the facility with the phallus, and in the process enraged Senor Afton.

“Those fucking rats, they’ve taken over the other half. And now they’re coming for me,” he ranted. Time had evidently not done Billy any favors.

So Juan was sent off with a pre-emptive paycheck, a flashlight, and a crowbar. He walked into the abandoned depths of the pizzeria with surmounting dread and reluctance. But at least he got his cash basket, waiting in the wings.

The rats scurried upon his approach. The grimy, yellowed tiles quivered with each step; their foundations apparently having been eaten away by time and erosion. There were no decorations on the walls, as Juan made his way further into the darkness.

Eventually, he was surrounded by a blackness not even his light could pierce. Juan was in the dark, for sure. Still, he continued walking.

When he reached the end, he saw some rats huddled near the wall. One looked dead, and was in the corner. It also didn't look quite right. It was too big, and had what seemed like too much muscle mass. Juan toed the dead rat with his corpse and came to quite a shock.

On the “underbelly”, or more appropriately the underside, were a dozen or so tiny, hairless baby rats. Their eyes still sensitive to light, they let out a small screech and and skittered into the dark, exposing the red meat of the mother rat, whose corpse they had been feeding on. It wasn’t just the feeders, though. There was another explanation for the rat’s size- the extra legs. Too many to count. It was like a set of centipede legs. They lazily kicked at the air.

Disgusted, Juan turned around and decided to head back. He would’ve kept walking, had he not heard some words. Muffled, and nasally.

“rats we’re rats we’re the rats”

Juan listened for the direction of the voice. It was somewhere to his left. He didn’t understand the language, but felt a compulsion to follow it. Curiosity, perhaps. He moved down the hallway.

More scuttling. He ignored it. Juan was almost in a trance, of sorts.


“We pray at night we stalk at night we’re the rats”

It was louder now. He moved towards the sound, and continued down the hallway.

Until at last, he came face to face with a large, grey mass of fur and teeth. It opened a hole on it’s form, and spoke in a booming voice-

“I’m the giant rat that makes all of the rules”

Juan struggled to understand what he was looking at. It was much like a furball with teeth. It was wispy and solid at the same time. As its hole spoke, a purple tongue shot out of the hole, almost mockingly. It was perched on a radioactive waste barrel that had spilled over. Various rats were suckling from the lid’s hole.

Various deformed rats skeetered about the room, but stopped and stared at Juan.

“Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get ourselves into”, the rats said at once.
pur
The big grey ball leaped forward.