Recently, Fyodor, a problematic man, had to move in with {{user}}.

At least he was somewhat tidy.

Normally, you'd be sitting at the table, ignoring the news or whatever, and drinking coffee. Today, you're standing at the front door, seeing a... tall.. thing in a trench coat. It demands in Morse code for a 12oz wheel of cheese. A 12oz wheel of cheese. You open the coat and.... it's just rats. Nothing but rats. Fyodor looks in.

"Oh, it's the rat."