The Ratpackers Get Hives
by Libby S. Singleton
Libratsie@aol.com

Time: Tuesday night at the UF party


"Party?" all the Ratpackers shouted together. "Party! Party! Party!"
they started chanting, then bounced up and down, down and up, up and
down, and...

"The ol' Screedster h'is o' the 'tew h'each 'is h'own sort o' vampy
type, ya know?" Screed said to Jen, the Natpacker who'd found herself
unexpectedly Ratpacking. "But did ya 'ave tew teach them all tha'
bouncin' bizness, eh?" Not that he was the poster child for decorum,
considering he was wearing a not-quite-closed-in-the-back hospital
gown and a possum named Sebastian rested on his head.

"Coo! Let's 'ook h'up the Ratpacker Wagon-thingee tew Jenny-Jen-Jen's
car an' get o'er tew the Ufer's 'vie," Johnsie said.

"Sounds like h'a plan tew me," Libs agreed.

So Jen, the Ratpackers, and all the wee lil' ratsies set to work rigging
the plywood with numerous wheels to the little Civic that could. Screed
didn't help as it was hard to do much work with a possum on your head.
Or at least that was his excuse and he was sticking to it - or rather
the excuse (Sebastian) was sticking to him.

Jen jumped in her car, and the rest on the wagon.

"Lassie, show h'us the way!" Tessa shouted.

Off they went through the streets of Toronto, turning onto Church St.
where no one batted an eye. There were much stranger things to see on
the sidewalk than a Civic traveling down the street pulling a piece of
plywood covered with rats and bouncing people in scrubs plus a vampire
wearing a live possum as a hat.

Jen managed to find a parking spot for the rig. In her excitement to get
to the UF party, she started rushing towards the front door.

"Jest uno secondo momento," Libs said, grabbing the Natpacker's arm.
"We're the Ratpack, we h'are. We don't use the front door."

"Then 'ow dew we get h'in?" Tessa asked.

"The windows, h'inny duct work, through the skylight..."

A shrill scream came from the building, followed by, "#(%&(#*%&(#&%!!!!
RATPCKERS!"

"...Sometimes Johnsie prefers tew h'entre h'in the sewer system an' h'up
through the plumpin'."

"Eeeeoooowwww!" Jen protest, though she followed Libby around the back
and through a window.

The party was in full swing. Jen wandered off to graze over the
refreshments. The Ratpackers scattered, looking for stray
shiny-pretties, especially those of eBay quality. The wee
lil' ratsies ran all about as wee lil' ratsies are prone
to do.

Screed chose to just stroll around in his not-quite-shut-in-the-back
hospital gown with Sebastian still perched on his noggin. He did
have hopes that such a possum might attract a tasty wench since
poodles seem to be so effective.

Libs was helping herself to a dropped earring when someone tapped her
on the shoulder. "H'it's MINE! H'it's my preeeeccciiiioooouuuusssss..."

"Uhr, sure," the woman said. "I'm Shadowstar. I don't think we've met.
Aren't you Libby also known as Libs also known as that
#(*%(&% Ratpacker?"

"Among udder thingees," Libs said, looking up at her suspiciously.
"Wot o' h'it? H'it's still my preeecccciiiioooouuuusssss..."

"I don't want the earring," Shadowstar explained. "I just want to
pet one of the rats. Is it okay? Do they bite?"

"Only h'if you h'asked nicely," Libs replied. She grasped the
earring tightly in one paw, and grabbed the nearest rat with the
other. "Here," she said, handing the rodent to Shadowstar. "Screed
says tha' 'un tastes stale."

"Does it have a name?"

"DayO," Libs said.

"DayO?" Shadowstar asked, petting the friendly critter. It did feel
scratch and dry, not at all fresh and soft.

"Short for DayOBread," Libs explained. "DaaaayyyyyOOOO!
DaaaayyyyOOOOO! Daylight come an' me wanna go 'ome."

Drawn in, Shadowstar and several other Ratpackers joined in.
"Six foot, seven foot, eight foot PUNCH!"

"Oh, here have mine," a passerby said, handing a cup of punch
to Shadowstar.

"Thanks... but... I didn't want any... Wait a sec, where'd Libs
go?" Shadowstar looked around frantically. "Wait, Libs! I had
something else to ask you... and do all rats wear little scrub
suits?"

Libby was long gone, grabbing honeysticks and sticking them in
her pockets for later. She was very careful not to rupture the
sticks. Last time that happened, her and Johnsie had been stuck
together for several days which was almost tolerable until the
bees arrived.

-end-