Tony G stood atop the cliff wondering how the fuck this had all happened. The bloody throat of his pet duck Maurice was draped around his neck like some giant albatross, dripping blood onto the pants that could barely contain his inexplicably erect penis.
The rats had driven him to this brink. They were the ones who’d told him to kill all those people, starting of course with that bitch Mandy, the whore with the audacity to talk bad about his brilliance. All he’d done was try to help her, to make her a better person for the world to see. The rats had prophesied that Halloween would be the perfect time for the carnage. Everything would be aligned, they had said.
Mandy wasn’t the only one of course. One death wouldn’t have left him up here, his life dangling on the edge of that dramatic cliff. There were dozens. Too many for Tony G to even count. He couldn’t remember all their names or faces if he tried. Some names he’d never known. And some faces he’d never seen. He hadn’t even wanted to kill them all.
It was all because of the rats. Those filthy, diseased dirt fluffs. And now they were right behind him, a swarm of filth, thousands, maybe millions, ready to nibble off every inch of his body, starting with his face and ending with his giant penis. It hadn’t always been giant, of course, just like Mandy hadn’t always been a bitch and his duck hadn’t always been dead and draped bleeding around his neck. He blamed this all on the rats as well. No, it wasn’t blame. It was the truth. The rats had taken over his life. He was just their marionette.
He first met the rats in the subway station. Of course that’s where he met the rats. Most people saw their first rat on the subway. Why would Tony G be any exception? He was certainly no extraordinary man. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
Tony G was on his way to work, to the office where that bitch Mandy would come in and betray him once and for all. He was about to step on the train when he felt something tugging at his pant leg. Not one for disruptions to his daily routine, he tried to shake it off, gyrating his leg a few times before continuing his step. But the tugging continued, this time harder. He looked down, right into the beady eyes of the rat.
He didn’t want to call the eyes beady. That was so cliché. But there was no other way to describe those two little brown beads of eyes.
As Tony G looked at the rat, the subway doors closed and the train drifted away. Tony G didn’t worry about the fact that he would be late for work. This rat obviously had something to say, and Tony G was going to listen.
“What is it little fella?” he heard himself ask before he had consciously decided what to say to a rat in the middle of the subway. No one bothered looking at him. People were used to crazies talking to rats on the subway. To everyone else around, Tony G was just another crazy. It didn’t matter that he wore nice clothes or carried a real leather briefcase. Those things didn’t make you any less crazy.
Tony G didn’t really expect the rat to answer. At least not the way that it did. It didn’t start speaking English right there in front of anything. The damn thing stood up on its hind legs and gestured for Tony G to follow it. Tony G shrugged, looked around to see if anyone else saw the miracle. After confirming that he was the sole witness, he nodded his head and followed the rat away from the tracks and toward what he suspected was some secret rat lair where all the rats scurried around and planned the ways they would terrorize the human race.
Sure enough, the rat led Tony G through a tunnel that became smaller and smaller until it suddenly became huge, a space big enough for all the rats in the world to congregate. And there they all were, some sitting in rocking chairs, some drawing on chalk boards, some pouring bubbling substances in and out of beakers. It was almost exactly what Tony G expected, which made sense because he’d always had a creative mind.
The room was organized into sections, or so it seemed. There was a science wing, a math wing, a child development wing. But most impressive was the torture wing near the center of the great room. There the rats stuck pins in voodoo dolls, drew diagrams of decapitated humans, and performed other acts Tony G didn’t want to imagine or ever mention to anyone. Human fingers and toes and ears and other appendages were scattered around the area, forming a big almost circle that divide the torture section from the rest of this hellish rat chamber.
The rats didn’t stop their work when he entered. It was as if they were expecting him and were under orders to pretend not to notice him. Tony G wondered if the rat leading him through the room was the head rat or just a messenger.
As Tony G followed the rat through the room, around the torture chamber, past the rat scientists, he tried to be an amicable guest, waving at various rats and even saying “Hello, how are you?” on occasion. None of the rats responded in any way, except for one of the torturists who slid him a beady wink and a sly smile. Tony G smiled back in return, but he didn’t return the wink. He’d never been able to wink, which he always thought was his biggest flaw as a human.
The rat led Tony G in a circuital fashion throughout the room, passing some of the wings three or four times before finally stopping in front of a massive wooden door. The handle was five feet high, obviously well out of a rat’s reach. The little rat on the floor stood up on his hind legs again. Tony G half-expected it to suddenly stretch up and push the handle down. Instead, the rat gestured for Tony G to open the door himself. With just the slightest hesitation, Tony G reached his arm up and wrapped his slightly trembling hand around the know. He gave it a little turn and pushed the door open.
A rat the size of a soccer ball sat in the middle of the room, a garland of trash upon his head. In his left hand was a scepter, which was actually a broken cane, and he pounded the scepter on the ground three times before waving the little rat away.
“Welcome,” the rat said in a squeaky voice, making Tony G wondering if maybe this was a female rat. Then he spotted the rat’s little pink penis poking out of his dirty brown crotch fur, and he knew the voice was just a typical rat feature.
“Thank you for having me,” Tony G said with a bow. Although he was scared out of his mind, he wanted to look grateful for whatever opportunity he was being given here.
“No thanks necessary. And please do not bow to me,” the rat said before rising to his hind legs. He stood only for a minute before the massive weight of his corpulent body forced him back down.
“Sorry,” Tony G said.
“No apologies either,” the rat king said. “This is not a place for manners. We are rats. We are the scum of the earth. But we know things that you humans do not. We know the world is on the brink of destruction, and only you can stop it from ending.”
“Why me?” Tony G asked, his hands touching his chest in modest shock.
“Because you are the savior of the world,” the rat declared with three pounds of the cane. He then removed the garland of trash and proffered it to Tony G. The tiny ring would barely serve as a bracelet, but he placed it atop his balding head anyway.
“But I’m just a humble office worker,” Tony G said, hoping his modesty would impress the rat.
“That is just a façade. You are a savior. You can save everyone. But only if you are up to the challenge. It won’t be easy. The things we will ask you to do may go against what your human nature falsely suggests. But you must listen. If you do not, all humans and all rats will be wiped out. The machines will take over. The subway that he loathe so much will become the next great race.”
Tony G shook his head firmly to show he was up to the challenge. “I will do it. Whatever you ask, I will do.”
“You must kill everyone who crosses you in any way. Anyone who steps in front of you in line. Anyone who tells you how to do your job. Anyone who talks back to you. Anyone who breaks your heart or the heart of anyone else when you’re around. Basically, anyone you see do anything that is even remotely hurtful or despicable must die.”
Tony G couldn’t help but feel a sense of irony. The rat had not concerned himself at all with manners, but now he was telling him to kill any human who cut in line.
“And how long must this go on?” Tony G asked after studying the rat’s demeanor for several seconds. He tried to make steady eye contact, but the giant beads of the rat’s eyes overwhelmed Tony G and forced him to look away.
“Until the threat is over.”
“And how will I know?”
“A messenger will be sent. It will be a hallowed time.”
“And how do I kill them?”
“In the most brutal ways you can. And your vengeance must be immediate. No drawn-out psychological mind games. Just swift and violent death.”
“Okay,” Tony G said, accepting the mission that was contrary to his views of human nature.
“My messenger will see you out now.”
Tony G turned and saw the little rat standing on his hind legs. He wondered if maybe the rat had been there the whole time or if it had uncanny powers of prediction.
“Very well. Don’t worry, sir, I will see this mission through.”
“I know you will,” the rat king said. “That’s why we chose you.”
Tony G marched back through the rat lair, wearing the garland of trash proudly atop his head. This time the rats did not ignore him. Instead they stood and applauded by slapping their slinky tails together with neighboring rats. They hissed their cheers of joy and offered encouraging glances with their beady eyes. For the first time in his life, Tony G felt important.
The messenger rat led Tony G back into the narrow tunnel that gradually broadened until it dumped him back in the subway station. Tony G looked around. No one had seen him emerge from the tunnel. Nor had they seen him associate with the rat. He turned to face the tunnel entrance one final time before marching to his train, but the entrance was suddenly blocked by a set of sloppily layered bricks. Tony G shrugged, wondering if this was all maybe a dream, and hopped on the train that was conveniently stopped and waiting for him.
A strange thing happened to Tony G on his way to work that day. Everyone was polite. They all said excuse me if the slightest contact was made. They offered seats to each other in an endless pattern of getting up and sitting down. They spoke with soft voices. No one uttered profanity or judged anyone else. No one blared music. No one read drivel from dirty romance novels or tabloids. Everyone was perfect. Perhaps Tony G’s mere presence could save humanity from the destruction the rat had foretold.
But it wasn’t that easy, of course. The moment he stepped into his office, before he could even admire the picture of his pet duck sitting on the desk, Mandy approached him with fire in her eyes and sluttiness in her hips. She sashayed right into his office, her massive breasts half-exposed by the half-unbuttoned plaid shirt she tried to play off as a Halloween custom. Tony G wondered what the hell she was supposed to be. A cross between a sexy farm girl and a grunge whore? Tony G had always wanted to screw her brains out on his desk, but today he knew that such a feat could not be performed. That would be contrary to the mission he was sent to carry out.
“How may I help you, Mandy?” he asked, trying his best to be polite and not lustful.
“You can help me by not being such a fuck-up,” Mandy roared, her finger pointing in accusation.
Tony G began to scan the office for an implement of destruction. He spotted a fire extinguisher that would serve her well.
“And how am I a f-up?” Tony G said, opting not to repeat her profane remark.
“You changed the numbers on my report,” she accused.
“Yes, I did,” Tony G said. “I changed them to the correct figures.”
“No. You fucked them all up. You now have simple math errors. You have the average of 3 and 3 and 3 as 4 and a half! How is that correct? How does that even make remote sense? Are you trying to get me fired? Are you trying to make this company go down in flames?”
“No, no. Those are certainly not my intentions.” Tony G said, stalling as he stood and walked to the fire extinguisher. “You are mistaken with your figures. If you look more closely at the report, you will see that I have improved everything. Nothing has been made in error.” He picked up the fire extinguisher. “But I’ll tell you what. If you want to, you can take your name off the report. I’ll take all the credit for it. And if it gets praised, I’ll say you helped tremendously to get it prepared. Deal?”
“No!” Mandy said, throwing her arms up in the air so that her boobs bounced like basketballs on a trampoline.
“Very well,” Tony G said. “Then I have no choice but to do this.” He swung the fire extinguisher high over his head and launched it down straight between the mountains of her chest. The solid metal object punctured right through her torso, sending her crashing to the floor like crumbling mountains.
“You bastard!” Mandy panted, struggling to find her breath with the weight of the extinguisher bearing down on her. “You’ll pay for this.”
“No. You’ll pay,” Tony G said. “I’m saving the world.” He bent down to pick up the fire extinguisher, squeezing her dented breasts in the process. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said with a smile before raising the extinguisher over his head and slamming it down on her chest again. He repeated this action until she was fully deflated, like a crying child’s worn-out birthday balloon. Then he forced open the mouth, stuck the nozzle of the extinguisher inside, and triggered the gassy liquid into her. It bubbled out of her nose and eyes as her body convulsed. A puff of smoke even ascended from her crotch.
As Tony G tossed the extinguisher on the ground, he found himself strangely aroused. He stared at her body for a moment, imagining the things he could to do her before he realized that he needed to get the hell out of there. He grabbed his leather briefcase and suit jacket and burst out of the office. A coworker dressed as Dracula stopped him forcefully in the hallway.
“Where ya goin’?” the coworker asked, his hands on Tony G’s shoulders.
“Big mistake, asshole,” Tony G cried. He reached for a stapler on the nearest desk and began pounding staples into the coworker’s face. “I’ll teach you for being rude,” Tony G yelled as the staples penetrated the coworker’s face. Blood began trickling down, and the coworker soon dropped to the ground. “Suck your own blood, bitch,” Tony G said before spitting on the nearly dead Dracula.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” a voice yelled from behind. Tony G chucked the stapler at the dying coworker’s head and turned to face his new foe. It was his boss. If ever someone needed to be killed.
“I’m taking care of the trash,” Tony G said, hoping he didn’t sound too cliché. He eyed the objects between himself and the boss, looking for the most brutal instrument around. He settled for the water cooler, which appeared to have been recently filled. Tony G sprinted to the water cooler and pulled out the massive bucket of water. The boss began running, so Tony G threw the bucket of water with all his might. The thing must’ve weighed fifty pounds, but the fire in Tony G’s soul gave him the strength to launch it a sufficient distance. The thing came down directly on the bosses head. Tony G watched with flee as the bucket of water and the boss’s head shattered simultaneously, creating a waterfall of water and brain and bits of bone. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
But Tony G didn’t have long to behold it. Other coworkers were emerging from their offices to find out what all the commotion was. Tony G killed them all. He used trashcans, computers, paper cutters, box knives, and anything else he could find that would mutilate or destroy the evil people before him.
When he was certain all his coworkers were dead, he bolted from the office. At the building’s exit, the messenger rat stopped him. It stood on its hind legs and tried to speak with its eyes. Tony G didn’t understand what it was saying. The rat started using sign language. Tony G still didn’t get it.
At last, the obviously frustrated rat used his squeaky voice. “What the fuck are you doing?” the rat cried. “This isn’t what you’re supposed to do. You’re causing the world to end!”
Tony G looked around. Planes were descending from the sky. Rivers and lakes were swelling onto the city streets. A volcano that couldn’t possibly have existed in the city began erupting. A giant hole in the sky ripped open and a giant arm reached down and began squishing people.
“I thought this is what I was supposed to do,” Tony G cried desperately.
“You thought wrong. How could you be so stupid? I knew we shouldn’t’ve trusted a human with such an important mission.”
The rat returned to its four legs and then leapt on Tony G’s pant leg, gnawing at the flesh of the pants. Tony G kicked with all his might. When the rat wouldn’t let go, Tony G picked it up and bit its head off.
“That’ll teach you to fuck with me,” Tony G said. Suddenly he was convinced that he had to kill more to reverse this ending of the world. He started killing everyone he saw on the streets. He was about to slice someone’s face off with a broken bottle when he saw the swarm of rats pouring into the street, led by the fat rat king who couldn’t manage to stand earlier.
“Kill, kill, kill!” their beady eyes yelled as they chased Tony G down the street and out of the city until they had him cornered on top of the cliff.
“You’ve ruined everything!” the rat king said.
The rat king threw Tony G’s pet duck’s throat at him.
“Maurice!” Tony G cried.
“Wear this as your sash of shame!” the rat cried.
Tony G put it on and watched as the blood dripped down onto the pants that barely covered his inexplicably erect penis.
“Now hang yourself with it,” the rat ordered.
“Never,” Tony G cried.
“Then be gnawed to death.” The swarm of rats was upon him in an instant, gnawing every inch of his body, starting with bits of his face and working their way down to his erect penis. They left the eyes intact so Tony G could see everything they did to him.
“Stop! Please!” Tony G begged, but the rats would not relent.
Hours later, the last of the rats left Tony G’s body. For a moment, he felt nothing. He could still see, could see the opened sky and the hand reaching down to squish things. Then a voice spoke from the bottom of the cliff.
“Rise, Tony G,” the voice said.
Tony G rose.
“Now understand your place in all this. You have caused this. And because of that, you will be the only survivor. You will roam the streets in your horribly disfigured state forever. Mirrors will be placed all around so you can never escape what you have become.”
Mirrors suddenly rose everywhere around. Tony G cowered at the sight of his horribly disfigured body, especially at the sight of his tiny demolished nub of a penis.
“Is there anything I can to do repent?” Tony G screamed to the heavens.
The mirrors laughed in unison, and Tony G tried to shut his eyes, but he found they had somehow been welded open forever.
By Nathaniel Tower