The Cotton Rat That Said No
Bedtime Fairytale #001
Read by: Jerry “The Ankle Biter” Silverhand 🥃
Once upon a very stupid night, there lived a cotton rat. Not the cute kind — this one waddled in like he owned the place, sniffed the cotton balls soaked in “rat-repellent” oil, and declared:
“Fk your nice-smelling cotton balls.”
And so began the war.
The Boss tried everything:
- Cotton balls? Rat laughed.
- Traps? Rat danced around them.
- Even peanut butter wrapped around poison pellets. The rat ate through it, like dessert after dinner, smug as hell.
This wasn’t a pest. This was Cotton Caesar. Bold. Greasy. Too dumb to quit.
Days turned to weeks. Peanut butter disappeared. Sanity thinned. And then— The Two-Way Trap appeared. A steel cage, peanut butter smeared like holy scripture across the bars.
Cotton Caesar strutted in. One bite… snap. Silence. End of empire.
Catford Commentary 🐾
Mrs. Catford: “How wasteful. We would have played with him first. Bats to the head, tail flicks, a little dance. Why rush the ending when suffering can purr?”
Mr. Catford: “Meow. Translation: Once the play is over, throat first, bones second. Then nap.”
Jerry (chuckling): “See, that’s the thing, kids — the Catfords don’t kill for order, they kill for theater. The Boss? He killed for closure. Both work. Just depends how long you want the rat to squirm.”
Moral of the story: Every empire falls. Even the fattest rat who laughs at poison pellets eventually meets peanut butter destiny.
Sleep well.
Tags: #BedtimeFairytale #DeptOfPettyAffairs #EmpireLore