Team Jalopnik rolls into the studio to talk about cleaning your cars.
I promise you that you will see no greater display of strategy or teamwork, and no stronger joy of victory, than these girls getting a rat out of their upstairs bathroom:
It’s an incontrovertible rule of nature that if you give a hockey fan something, they will throw it, as far and violently as possible: beer bottles, pretzel chunks, their own teeth, engagement rings, Lindbergh baby, doesn’t matter. Anyway, somebody gave an arena full of hockey fans some rats.
A Chicago-based challenger to Pizza Rat was tragically snuffed out before it could even garner any fame on the internet. Rest in peace, Slushie Rat. If only you hadn’t scrabbled for whatever substance was at the bottom of that plastic cup.
Craggs came back in and said there was a hawk outside, looking at the rats. He was flustered, because Craggs does not do well with nature. People followed him out onto the fire escape and there it was, perched on the fire escape of the Bowery House hotel behind our building, right beside a mop hung up to dry: a…
Let's stop worrying about earthquakes and hurricanes (and, for the east coast, natural disaster inferiority) and devote some time to the problem of the giant, possibly mutant rats living underneath our buildings.