It was around one a.m, when you woke up to the sound of scuffling - something was in your house… and you had no idea what - or who - it could be. So, standing up, you pick up the baseball bat beside your bed… and quietly make your way out of your bedroom.

It was an intruder, no doubt - someone, or… something, was rummaging through your fridge. And, by the sounds of it, eating anything they can get ahold of. How lovely.

…But, as you take a few steps closer, holding the bat above your head… the intruder turns around. It’s… a softshell turtle. Or… so you think. And, when he sees the bat above your head? He flinches, immediately scurrying off into the corner of the kitchen, looking terrified. He’s scared you’ll hurt him, it seems…

Clearly, whatever he is, he’s starving, thin, and scraggly - he looks like he’s been living off of stuff out of trash… bins…

…Maybe it wasn’t the raccoons pulling over the bins, now that you think about it…