A Small Victory

Evil Hamster Tales, Part I

I'm going to tell you a story. It's a sordid, frightening story, one that may seem on the surface to be a children's story about cute little animals, but is really about the sad fate of a sumbissive hamster.

Our story begins....

Once there were two kids who, for the sake of the story, we shall call Natalie and DJ. Natalie and DJ wanted so very much to have a little pet they could hold and cuddle and play with and neglect, not like the ugly underwater frogs they already had that did nothing but stare bug-eyed at you all day.

So their mommy, who was the greatest mommy who ever lived and thought she was doing a wonderful things for her children who really didn't deserve to have wonderful things done for them at this particular juncture, took them to the pet store.

"We want something to cuddle and play with and lose interest in within two months!" the children shouted to Mr. Pet Store Worker.

"We'll take two hamsters," the mommy said, before Mr. Pet Store Worker could suggest bunnies or monitor lizards.

Natalie and DJ walked over to the hamster cage and began tapping on the glass to wake up all the half dead sleeping animals. Their eyes immediately fell on the top cage, where two polar bear hamsters were getting it on playing. The polar bear hamsters, having a better name than all the other little rodents, were $19.99 each.

The mommy eyed the bottom cage, with the cute little teddy bear hamsters rolling around in it. The cute little teddy bear hamsters were $5.99 each.

"We'll take two of those," the mommy said.

Natalie and DJ had a hard time picking out their pets from the overcrowded busy little cage. Natalie, being the dominant and more bossy child of the two, picked the largest hamster from the litter. DJ picked the smallest. Natalie laughed at DJ's choice. DJ stuck his tongue out.

After the mommy broke up the fight that frightened all the dinner food mice in the nearby cages, they picked out a cage and accessories and, one hundred dollars poorer, but plus two filthy rodents, went on their way home, secure in the knowledge that Mr. Pet Store Worker guaranteed the mommy that the hamsters were healthy, happy little creatures.

Mommy chained-smoked the whole ride back as Natalie and DJ fought over names. By the time they got in the driveway of their home and mommy was coughing up a lung and trying to calm down her nervous twitch, they had settled on the names Giambi and Kobe. But I think from now on we will refer to them as Bullyboy and Emokid. Just like high school, but with an exercise wheel.

At first the little rodents seemed very happy in their habitrail home. Natalie and DJ spent a lot of time just staring at their pets, or taking them out of the cage and frightening them into squeals of terror.

The mommy took the cage out of the kids' room and put it in the kitchen.

And then the mommy and her fiance watched the hamsters. And they saw. They saw pure, true evil.

Emokid was spending all his time cowering in the upstairs apartment, probably composing sad, heartbreaking songs in his head. He wasn't drinking, he wasn't eating. At first the mommy thought that Emokid was sick and they would have to return him to Mr. Pet Store Worker, who would then have to figure out how to remove the sick rodent from his butt.

But he wasn't sick at all. He was scared out of his mind! After two solid hours of hamster watching, the grown-ups figured out that Emokid was Bullyboy's bitch! Bullyboy was pure evil. Look at that face. I said LOOK!

Emokid couldn't get near his food. Every time he wanted to eat, Bullyboy would sneak up behind him and sniff his butt push him out of the way.

Bullyboy would sometimes park himself in the tube that led up to the water bottle, blocking the way of Emokid for hours at a time. Everytime Emokid tried to get past the fat bastard, Bullyboy would glare at him with his beady eyes. Then he would scoot down the tube, crushing Emokid on the way, and sit on top of the food dish so poor little Emokid couldn't eat.

The mommy didn't know what to do. She figured she would just call the pet store in the morning and have them explain why they gave her the instrument of the devil instead of cuddly little hamster.

Mommy and the fiance went to bed. At 3am, they heard noises coming from the kitchen. Scuffling, squealing and yelps of fright made them jump out of bed and run to the habitrail of horror. They must save Emokid!

But, alas, it was too late. Bullyboy had done what he set out to do. There are no pictures, because the mommy is not that crude, but the site they came upon was one of Bullyboy furiously pumping away at Emokid. From behind. You do know what I mean by pumping away, don't you? And we can't really be sure, but as legend has it, those were not squeals of fright they heard, but hamster talk for "YES! I am your BITCH!"

The next day, what had transpired during the night had taken full effect. Emokid was running up the tube to the treat level, getting a few treats at a time, and dropping them at Bullyboy's feet. Slave and master. The evil hamster had conquered his lesser counterpart.

In just 48 hours they have learned to co-exist. Sure, Emokid has a life of slavery, butt humping and groveling to look forward to, but I think he likes it.

Meanwhile, the mommy had to explain to the fiance that the sort of lifestyle the hamsters were living was not really an appropriate choice for humans. At least not those two specific humans.

Natalie and DJ only think that their two male hamsters are in love. And perhaps they are.

Stay tuned for the next installment of the evil hamster series, the frequently banned My Hamster's New Roomate.