Not Your Ordinary Hamster

There’s no place like home!

My home you ask, I live in the streets of the city, Manhattan, NYC, Brooklyn.  Yeah, I guess you can say I travel … well in ways.  That’s just how I live.  Eating scraps of garbage.  By the way my name is Jason. I’m like a flea, just moving onto the next, and running away from my troubles, from life …  But all that changed, my life change, I changed … all on December 23, 1957 … and uh yeah, one more thing… I’m a hamster ! ! ! 

It started off like every other morning.  Loud horns being hocked just to get through SOME of the traffic,and the sweet, yet pungent smell of trash filling the air.Life as a hamster growing up on the streets of New York with only me and my grandfather is rough.  It wasn’t always like this though.  We used to live in a pet store on 32nd street.  The pet shop owner took really good care of us.  He always made sure that grandpa, mom, dad and my 12 siblings and I were all fed, given plenty of fresh water, and always had a clean cage.  Unlike our foes, a group of misfit samurai rats, they were jealous of the way we live because they lived on the dirty streets.  We, on the other hand, come from a history of wise ninjas.  Ninjas and samurais never got along.  It was probably because many years ago, During a great battle, my grandfather was defending my grandmother and knocked the evil king rat into the Hudson River, never to be seen again. After that day His son vowed vengeance!

 In the pet shop, the owner left to get the mail.  We smelled something burning from the basement.  I ran to see what it was from through a secret hole under the hamster bedding.  All I saw were some rats running away, the broken, nibbled electrical cord sparking and the huge fire had spread upstairs!  All the animals were running frantically around trying to escape.  I ran out to the back parking lot as I watched the whole place and animal’s burn down to smithereens.  That was the last time I saw my family.  I ran to the garbage can, weeping, and terrified.  There was a note on the garbage can.  It read

“If you ever want to see a grandfather again meet me in the sewer at 5:30 … or ELSE !”  Signed, son of king rat.

I only had so much time because I had to get all the way across town and it was already 4:00 PM.  I hitched a ride on the back of a delivery guys bike to get their more swiftly.  I jumped off as soon as I saw the nearest manhole next to Dalini’s pizzeria. (Their pizza is awesome and especially bitten up with a taste of garbage) I squeezed in one of the little holes of the lid. 

The sewer was dark, wet, and smelled like there was a skunk that ate too many burritos. As I looked closely into the distance, I see my grandfather tide up. “Grandfather! grandfather!“  I screamed. Woosh! woosh! woosh! All of a sudden, I see three samurais kick flying toward me.  I used my ninja skills to fight them off! BOOM! KICK! PUNCH!  “Grandfather! I’m coming! WOAH ! I slid to a stop.  “You think you’re so tough!”, Said son rat.  “I don’t think”, I said “I KNOW!” BAM ! ! ! ! ! ! I Knocked him hard into the sewer drain! Never to be seen again. I ran quickly to my grandfather and untied him. “Here Jason” He Said “You Have Completely Proved That You Are A skilled, Professional Ninja” as he pulled something out of his pocket. “All I get is a pocket knife”, I said “No”, He said, As it unfolded into a long sharp sword made by only the finest of silver, diamonds, and crystals   “! WOAHHH !” , I said “It Is For You” “How may I ever repay you grandfather ?”,I said. “You Already Have My Child … You Already Have“ He Said. As we walked out of the sewer and into the light.