He comes in sniffing the air and twitching his nose, his beady eyes passing lazily over the merchandise. Everything about him resembles a rat. Even his voice sounds as a rat's should if it were to suddenly start talking. But wait! He is a rat! He is a bizarre, mutated rat trying to emulate a human being! Even down to the pants and the shoes! The cellphone and cellphone holder! Assimilation!
I've seen him before, and something turns in me when he walks in. I wonder what I did not like about him before. "Myes", he squeaks, "I mwould nlike to try nis gaaaame."
Aha, I remember now. It is not a deal if he does not get to try it. Open a brand new box (which is a no no) and put it in. He might not even buy it. Then we would have to sell it to someone who doesn't care about the condition. Which is not always easy.
He's always asking if this game or that will come with some insignificant, meaningless trinket or other, something like a silly piece of plastic that only tries to symbolize something that is fake itself. His obsession with meaningless, useless articles fascinates me. And I wonder...but ah yes, we must forgive his rodent nature. It is all he knows.
And somewhere...his house...wherein the basement lies a great pile of plastic nothing.
