Chapter Text
Rats will do anything for a piece of cheese in Gotham. Gnarled yellow teeth chomping at the bit to steal a morsel, only to hide it away as if for winter. Their nests are castles, pungent and haunted things piled high with Swiss, cheddar and excrement. They tie themselves into rat kings in some sick pledge of loyalty to one another. And when a rat decides it wants more of its fair share, they’ll cut off their own tail for it.
The rats don’t even eat the cheese; they’d never touch the repulsive stuff. They peddle it to little mice, watching as the mice stuff mold and pesticides down their emaciated little gullets. It’s a place rank with sickness.
So why the fuck can’t the rat trap manage to get paid above minimum wage in this goddamn city?