“Eeek!”

One sip. I ignore whatever it is.

“Eeek! Eeek!”

Two sips. The sound is insistent, like a baby with a nail gun, but still, I’m busy.

“Eeeek! Eeeek! EEEEEEK!!!”

This had better be important. I spin around in my computer chair. Tweak has materialized out of nowhere in the center of the floor, her head bent forward, burdened.

Me: “Tweak, what are you… holding?”
Tweak: “Mfph fmmpt you smpth.”

Tweak drops a Brussels sprout on the carpet. The Brussels sprout stands up, falls over, then scampers lopsided down the hall. Tweak pounces, snatches it up in her teeth again.

The Brussels sprout: “Eeeek!”
Me: “Huh. Vegetarians are liars.”
Bowie-dog: “Hey, guys. Whatcha doing?”
Me: “Tweak is abusing a mouse.”
Bowie-dog: “TIM-BITS! What’s she gonna do?”
Me: “Soak it in spit and drop it in my shoe, apparently.”

The mouse runs into my closet; Tweak runs after the mouse. Bowie-dog runs after Tweak, and I chase them all with a string of swears and a camera. We are like Tom and Jerry on an episode of “Cops.”

Me: “Where did it come from, Tweak?”
Tweak: “I ain’t gonna rat out my dealer.”
Me: “I just want to plug the hole in the border.”
Tweak: “Snitches is bitches.”
Bowie-dog: “Tim-bitches!”

The sprout has gone quiet now that it’s in hiding.

Me: “Tweak, hear me – I’ll go easy on ya if ya just tell me where it is. It’s not YOU I want, it’s the Brussels Mouse.”

Tweak licks her paw and ever so subtly nods at a Keen sandal. Bowie dives forward but I dive faster, paper towel in hand, and I scoop up the mouse.

Brussels Mouse: “Eeeek! EEEK!”
Me: “The Quicker Picker Upper!”

I gently release Brussels Mouse into the wilds of the front yard. I turn back to find both perps hanging their heads.

Me: “You know what you did wrong, right?”
Both: “We interrupted your coffee.”
Me: “Now I have to start over.”

I pour water into the Bunn and sing, “Bad boy, bad boys.”

Wait for it….

Tweak: “Whatcha gonna do?”

 

14 July 2014, “Tolerating Tweak”