This is just a short continuation of the earlier short story "Rat Desires"


Within her palace beneath the log of state, Goose the ball python festered with resentment. Not even a day prior, she had been torn from sleep, manhandled by a horde of stinky, sticky, tiny, sweaty primates, and tossed back into her enclosure like a toy. Her bright, beautiful, well-kept scales - desecrated. Her pristine body- absolutely defiled And for what? No rat. No mouse. Not even the whiff of weasel.

The Rat-Bearer had betrayed her.
And Goose never forgets a betrayal. Nor does she let a threat go unpaid. His fat, sweaty sausage-fingers would be hers.

Now, she lay coiled, dreaming of them. She had never tasted man flesh. Could it rival rat? Perhaps sweeter. Perhaps, once removed, the Rat-Bearer would lose the power to strum his six-string box of horrors. Delicious benefits in addition.

Then faitly her snoot twitched. The scent of rat drifted into her kingdom. The moment was near.

Soon the Rat-Bearer arrived, bearing a rat in tongs. Too late for offerings, Goose thought as she pressed her snoot against the glass. She eased her coils into position, feigning disinterest.

The latch lifted. Her lid removed. The tongs slowly entered from above.
Goose slithered forward with calculated grace, nosing the tongs, pretending obedience. And then — the hand appeared.

Her muscles fired- her mouth gaped wide- fangs sank deep into the smallest finger, engulfing the digit whole.
The Rat-Bearer cried out and wrenched back his hand. The tongs and the rat clattered into her lair. His shriek of unimaginable pain filled the chamber
“God damn it, Goose!”

She uncoiled slowly, savoring his retreat. Victory hummed through every scale.

“One finger down,” she hissed against the glass. “The rest will follow.”
Goose than dragged the discarded rat into her hole. And on second thought- she brought the tongs too.