W. G. Peather sells his home

Huebard starred at the dark wall. He saw the rat. It occured to Huebard the amount of money he paid for this high dollar house, vaulted bonus room for his funko pop hard rock cafe themed collection, a louvr'ed gondola for his back porch slab where he always stubbed his toe on the concrete jut-out from the two stairs where they led down to meet the up-sloped back yard. The custom movie room where they sprang for the custom sized "Amazon Imports: Italian %18.75 grey silk screen for projector_brand_new" after the builder accidentally built the room too wide.  Huebard liked this house, even loved it for its nice creature comforts, but Huebard was beginning to understand something new looking at that rodent on the shelf.  Wire rack shelves in particular. 

Huebard, starring that varmit down, had only one thought and it was not this poor creature frozen in anticipation, starring at Huebard holding his shotgun.

 It was the shelves.

Something, for the first time to Huebard, was just kind of ...off. This was a modern builder style house. All the roche bobois instagram feed, arched hallway entrances, big ass plant in corner, FLOATING SHELVES OVER FIREPLACE, and a "The Texas" oversized pantry in the kitchen with white wall everthing. A high dollar blank canvas for you to throw up years of social media ads subconscious manipulation. I dont think this is cool but actually I do kind of aesthetic. Sleek design, hipster minimalist. And he liked that.

But all this effort and this "the Pro's" and all this "my dream home" and "good business" and "money" Huebard thought... "And they put ikea wire rack shelves in here?

     It's "The Texas" oversized pantry.  It's a big $42,069 drywall box and they didn't at least put some 2x4 shelves in here? I get to have these 8" deep contraptions in a 96 square foot room that small things just fall through it? I couldn't even place a mouse trap on this thing without it falling through the cracks?" (he wasn't sure of that last one, he hadn't tried).

He stood now in his "The Texas" oversized pantry about 8' foot and 69"'inches away from the small animal that had spent the past hour terrorizing his kitchen.  It started with the small shadow darting in the corner then scaring the misses in to spilling the mustard seeds she was washing for the mustard casserole she makes every year for thanksgiving. 

Huebard said grace. Then cocked that mf'r and shot that piece of shit into oblivion. *BANG*  Rattus Norgevicus all over freshly pocked drywall. A momentary silence.

"...I guess thats why they say to keep some pepper as your first slug. that little shit was fast I thought he almost dodged it!"

"WHOOOOOOO" yelled Mrs. Huebard.

and they danced to Jamiroquia and Graham Central Station covers by Suno A.I. all night long and drank champagne and she forgot she was pregant. And they talked about that bastard dumbass W.G. Peathers who sold them this home. Either he was too stupid to build a good place or too stupid to know how to be good to people either way they were going to put the house on the market tomorrow and move to a little earth ship home in the New Mexico plains and be self sustaining kale farmers who watch for UFO's along the ridge off their balcony at night. the end.

May 17 2025