[Now the old man is on his feet too. He steps lightly, following the noise. Not behind the entertainment center. Not by the trash. It's the door. He stands to the side and then slooowly unlocks.]
I don't think it's a rat.
[He turns the knob and then tries to look to their doorstep with only a sliver of the door open. A big, thumping tail his against the wood and the rest of a furry body tries to press through.]
no subject
I don't think it's a rat.
[He turns the knob and then tries to look to their doorstep with only a sliver of the door open. A big, thumping tail his against the wood and the rest of a furry body tries to press through.]
Son of a gun.