AAAAHKSSGDHYAAAAAAGH!
THERE IS A DECAPITATED RAT IN MY CLOSET.
I DISCOVERED IT BY VERY NEARLY STEPPING ON IT.
OH GOD, I WANT TO BLEACH THE WALLS.
(Hello, trauma! Goodbye, getting anything productive done today!)
Okay. Okay. No. Okay. I am steeling myself. I can use the telephone, I can get a DECAPITATED DISEASE-RIDDEN CARCASS AAAGH AAAAGH--! No. Wait. Okay. Just ... just think of it as as as a nasty tomato. Okay. Right. I can do this. Removal of a nasty tomato from the closet. Right. Okay.
(DAAAAAAAAAD!!!)
Four pairs of latex gloves, half a bottle of Lysol with bleach, one very hot shower, and a distinctly immortal-soul-tarnishing number of blasphemes later, ETA: OH MY GOD IT WAS BLOATED AND LEAKING GREEN, GREEN, GREEN ... FLUID!!! IT COULD NOT HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN THERE LONG ENOUGH TO DO THAT!! AAAAAGHSKLFKHDSKLJD!!!!
Edit the second: Okay. Have moved on. Have moved bed ACROSS THE ROOM from the closet. Am zen. Well. Was zen. Tooling around, went through a random progression of thought which lead to Terry Pratchett. Synapes fired madly, and the connection was made between Terry Prachett, rats, and aforementioned imaginary tomatoes: Quattro rodenti. A Ankh-Morporkian-dwarf recipe from Nanny Ogg's Cookbook, modified for Roundworld consumption to feature TOMATOES COVERED IN ROAST BEEF COOKED ON TOP OF A PIZZA, ARRANGED TO MIMIC THE SHAPE OF RATS. This just comes POPPING INTO MY HEAD WITH A CHEERY WAVE!
*sobs* Why did I google it...? Why, why, WHY did I google it?