So, the other night, I found myself rummaging through the refridgerator in a half asleep stupor:
It took me a moment to realize what was happening.
HOLY crud it was on my foot.
Oh ew. OH ew ew ew.
You know, actually, it was kind of cute.
But I was still:
See, in reality, there were two tiny wormy thingys.
In my mind, there were thousands, writhing around in a pile.
Actually, based on what my Knight said about what was still in the trashcan, that wasn't too far off.
In any case, I responded to this by making a noise only dogs can hear and running to my Knight like the floor was made of lava because I'm an adult.
The moral of the story is that if you ever eat chicken, once you throw away your excess bird-parts, you should really take the trash out as soon as humanly possible.