#The mischief of rat detectors

[rat-detector-the-21st]

Community for all the rat detectors JOIN IT

@rat-detectors-detector @rat-detector @rat-detector-detector @rat-detector-detector-detector @ratdetectordetectordetectordet @rat-detector-to-the-5th-power @rat-detector-x6 @rat-detector-seven @rat-detector-8x @ratdetectortheninth @rat-detector-10 @ratdetector-x11 @rat-detector-twelve @rat-detector-13 @ratdetector13 @rat-detector-thirteen @rat-detector-the-14th @rat-detector-15 @rat-detector-16 @rat-detector-17 @rat-detector-19x @ratdetector20 @rat-detector-the-22nd @ratdectector23 @rat-detector-24 @ratdetector25

[rat-detectors-detector]

Check it out

⬆️TW: images of severe injuries(on a cat)

Hello, my brethrats. Please boost this account to help nina

@rat-detector @rat-detector-detector @rat-detector-detector-detector @rat-detector-to-the-5th-power @rat-detector-seven @ratdetectortheninth @ratdetector-x11 @rat-detector-twelve @rat-detector-13 @rat-detector-thirteen @ratdetector13 @rat-detector-the-14th @rat-detector-15 @rat-detector-16 @rat-detector-17 @rat-detector-the-18th @rat-detector-19x @ratdetector20 @rat-detector-the-21st @rat-detector-the-22nd @ratdectector23 @rat-detector-24 @rat-detector-the-26th @ratdetector-x26 @rat-detector36 @rat-detector-72 @rat-detector-84 @rat-detector-rat-89 @rat-detector-236 @rat-detector-333 @rat-detector-334 @rat-dedecdor @rat-detector-but-evil @rat-detector-fail @detector-rat @rat-detector-redacted @the-rat-detector-couple-the-1st

Please tag any brethrats I may have missed

[rat-detector-84]

RATS ASSEMBLE!!!!!

If I get to 10,000 followers on here, I'm just gonna say fuck it and get my fucking handle and worst post tattooed on my thigh

[rat-detector-15]

happy valentines day, my brethrats.

each and every one of you is so very loved by me and is important to our mischief. united we stand!

@rat-detector @rat-detector-detector @rat-detector-detector-detector @ratdetectordetectordetectordet @rat-detector-to-the-5th-power @ratdetectorx6 @rat-detector-seven @rat-detector-8x @ratdetectortheninth @rat-detector-10 @ratdetector-x11 @rat-detector-twelve @rat-detector-thirteen @rat-detector-13 @ratdetector13 @rat-detector-the-14th @rat-detector-15 @rat-detector-16 @rat-detector-the-18th@rat-detector-19x @ratdetector20 @rat-detector-the-21st @rat-detector-the-22nd @ratdetector23 @rat-detector-24 @ratdetector-x26 @rat-detector-72 @rat-detector-236 @rat-detector-333 @rat-detector-334 @rat-detector-redacted @a-rat-with-internet-accesses

[lunasanguismusic]

Top ten reasons you should date me.

1: I love rats!

2: I have a few rats!

3: I will never cheat on you because I'm too busy hanging out with rats.

4: I will give you plenty of space because I prefer the company of rats.

5: I will send you many rat memes.

6: If you have rats, I will welcome them into the mischief and give them treats.

7: I will talk about rats for at least 18 hours a day, wow talk about communication!

8: I'm a rat detector and that comes with many perks. I can probably get you into a restaurant for free ;)

9: When we get married we can have a rat themed wedding! Complete with a ring rat and cheese toss <3

10: Did someone say rat puns? It rodent be fun without those!

[ratdetectortheninth]

My brethrats, I just learned a group if rats is called a colony or a mischief. I believe the term Mischief better fits what we are. What do you think?

@rat-detector-seven @rat-detector-8x @rat-detector-to-the-5th-power @rat-detector-detector-detector @rat-detector-detector @rat-detector-16 @rat-detector-the-14th @ratdetector13 @rat-detector-thirteen @rat-detector-13 @ratdetector-x11 @ratdetectordetectordetectordet @ratdetector20 @rat-detector-the-21st @rat-detector-the-22nd @rat-detector-x6 @rat-detector-24 @rat-detector-15

[mouse-bitez]

Damn….

Names Mouse but thanks?

Squeak

Squeak

[whyiask]

Just a Stupid Dare (ch.9)

Masterpost Ao3 Link tws: u!dark sides (not as much virgil anymore), peer pressure(???) i don’t know, Janus is just generally a Not Good person, some swearing notes:.....hahaha.....long time no see...... so things have been a bit busy lately and I'm almost ready to hop back onto my consistent posting schedule. For now, enjoy this update :) expect more consistent updates starting again soon <3 thank you all for reading (please feel free to drop by my askbox to yell at me about this fic! i would absolutely love it.)

Virgil swallowed nervously. Why wouldn’t he be nervous? What was he even supposed to tell them? ‘Oh, so you know how I was supposed to befriend Roman so that we could hurt him? Well turns out, I actually like being his friend and now I don’t know what to do.’

Yeah no. He had to think of something better than that.

Janus was staring at him expectantly, coldly. Virgil had to bite back a shiver at the downright murderous glint in his eyes.

Remus pushed past him into the house, pulling out a miniature metal detector and moving towards the pantry. Virgil watched him go, slightly confused but used to the odd behavior. Janus watched him leave impassively.

“What. The fuck. Was that about.”

Virgil opened his mouth to respond but Janus cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“And don’t even think of lying to me.” The words were cold and quiet, and Virgil couldn’t stop the tiny flinch.

His mind raced. What did Janus want from him? To hurt Roman. To bully an innocent peer. Right. He could work with this.

“I- uh-” He cast his mind around, searching for an answer to the question. He himself didn’t know what the honest answer would be. What even were they anymore? Were they, dare he say it, friends?

No. He couldn’t get his hopes up. It��s too late for that. He was already neck deep in this mess, and it would be unfair to Roman to start being genuine now, ignoring his past malicious intent.

“Time,” he blurted out, panicking at the sight of Janus’s eyebrow slowly creeping up his face. “I just need more time.”

“Time to do what, exactly?” Janus’s stare was piercing and Virgil forced himself to commit to the lie.

“Time to befriend him. He doesn’t fully trust me yet. Today was a big step, he finally felt comfortable enough to come over, but you two showing up might’ve thrown that back a little bit.”

The lies tasted bitter on his tongue. There was no way he could carry through with the plan, he couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt Roman, when all Roman had been was kind and charming and ridiculously endearing and-

Janus’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. It was like someone had flicked on a light switch. His eyes cleared of their hard anger and distrust, and his lips twitched into a semi-smirk.

“That’s… actually not a horrible plan. I didn’t think you’d be sticking to this so much.” His tone was mildly impressed, and Virgil felt his heart swell a little in pride, before shaking himself. No. This was the guy who wanted to hurt Roman. (When had Roman become such an influence in his decisions? He didn’t know, he would never know.)

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about me.” Virgil shrugged awkwardly. Janus barked out a laugh and Virgil felt his muscles relax a millimeter.

“Oh, do humor me. What do they say?” Janus’s tone was teasing and Virgil hummed a reply. This felt so natural, so easy. He could almost forget about how scared he had been not a minute earlier.

“I never do anything half-assed. BS’ing my way through a project? I’ll go all out. Anxiety? Better go all out and make it severe anxiety. Befriending a nobody to ultimately backstab them? Well, never let it be said that I don’t try my absolute hardest to get it right.”

Virgil was almost ashamed of how easily the slander rolled off his tongue. This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t be talking about Roman as if he were just some random kid. Janus laughed again.

“Let’s say… a week, then,” said Janus, eyes glinting with mischief and glee.

Virgil was jolted out of his thoughts. “A week for what?”

“A week to befriend him, utterly and completely. If you flake out, I won’t blame you. I bet it’s pretty hard to pretend to like that absolute loser. I bet $20 that you’ll drop out before the week is over. Prove me wrong, Virgil Summers. Prove me wrong.”

The last words were barely above a whisper and Virgil gave Janus a mini mock salute.

“Maybe I will.”

Remus popped out of the pantry, effectively ruining the moment.

“He trusts so easily, honestly. The wimp tried to befriend me at first, but I showed him what’s it’s really like to be a Stone. He gets so attached and so so emotional. Like waah waah, I don’t want to be your friend, you fuckin naked mole rat.”

Janus laughed and Virgil forced out a laugh too. Remus ranted for a few more minutes about his step brother, before finally moving on. The Dark Sides stayed over for a few hours, and Virgil felt himself relax into an easy state around them again. It was only after they left that he allowed himself to think.

Virgil turned away from the door and something caught his eye. Roman’s jacket still hung from his coat rack. He lifted it off gently and held it gently. Looking at it closer, he nearly snorted with laughter. It was knee-length and dramatic and so unbelievably Roman. He could not imagine a single other person pulling off such a fashion statement, but with Roman, the long trenchcoat and round, tinted red glasses worked.

Roman could probably pull off anything, no matter how dramatic of a statement, if he was being honest. But like usual, Virgil’s main hobby included lying to himself and everyone around him.

Lies… weren’t his favorite thing. They were much more Jan’s thing, what with manipulation and the works. He preferred to work behind the shadows, where no one could see and question him, where he wouldn’t be put on the spot and forced to sound convincing enough to alter someone’s perception of reality. Sure, he might be fairly good at stretching the truth, but that was just that. Based on truth. Based on a solid foundation to work with.

He was getting away with so many lies, and that scared him. He didn’t want to be a liar, not to his closest friends. Janus and Remus and Roman- when had Roman made it onto that list?

As much as he hated to admit it, Roman was one of his favorite people, ever. He had one week. One week to figure out what to do. Who to pick. One week.

It was altogether way too much time and not nearly enough.

He looked down at the ridiculous coat in his arms. One week was all he had.

After that… who knew what would happen. It would be over. He wasn’t quite sure what was going to end, but in his heart, he knew something would never be the same again.

One week.

He didn’t have a fucking clue on what to do.

Only one week.

He took a deep breath. He would enjoy this, as much as he could. He would treasure this time with Roman and he wouldn’t think too hard about what was to come.

He’d burn that bridge when he got to it.

[writingstoriesinpajamas]

Greyzone (1)

It’s finally here, the first part to Greyzone! I’ll aim to update with new parts/chapters every so often, we’re talking like one or two weeks depending on how busy I am. Anyway, enjoy!

-Tia

-She backed away but the mass lunged forward and she felt a rush of something flow through her. She felt it searing throughout her body, a burning coldness spreading into each limb and through her veins. She shuddered and tried to scream, but her mouth was clamped shut; it along with the rest of her muscles tensed completely against her will.-

Word Count: 1655

Theo flashed her ID badge to the gatekeeper and the iron-bar doors scraped open, then she scurried inside out of the rain as the gates slammed shut behind her. An officer approached, greeting her with familiarity, and took her for her security check. A walk through a metal detector, hands swabbed for traces of drugs and a thorough pat down were all that was required. This was her daily routine, and the security guard was pleasant enough to chat with, so despite what her friends always said about it being “so invasional” and that they’d “never cope with the pressure”, it wasn’t a bad way to start her morning.

But god, she needed a coffee. Once her check had finished she headed through to the staff sector of the building to the cafeteria on the top floor, the stairs sadly not getting any easier with each day she climbed them.

“Hey Theo, you’re early today,” Liz, the young barista commented as she reached the food bar. “Got something on?”

“Yes, actually,” She replied, digging change out of her pocket and setting it on the counter. “I thought if I started early then I could get off early and actually have time for a proper date with Dylan, so that’s the plan.”

“Ugh, you guys are so cute. I need a boyfriend,” Liz chuckled as she turned around to start making the coffee. Theo picked a sandwich out of the fridge and set it down on a tray.

“Yeah, well, it’s hard with a long-hour job like this. And we don’t live together, so that makes it even harder to see each other,” She sighed, “anyway. How are things at home? I never saw you yesterday.”

“So-so,” she replied. “Mum’s still throwing hissy fits if I mention dad, but it could be worse.”

“As I’ve said, you can always crash at mine if you need to,” she assured as she was handed her coffee. She paid for the sandwich and they kept chatting before she eventually said goodbye to Liz and headed to the locker room.

She spent the morning on patrol, walking the corridors of cells and ignoring catcalls and comments from the prisoners. It wasn’t the worst prison to work in, described by her other female coworkers as “probably the best”. The guys here were pretty tame and a few were apologetic of their cellmates. Some, usually the younger ones or those in for petty crimes such as theft or vandalism, were actually pretty fun to talk to. She had to be careful what she said, of course; the strict rules and guidelines she’d been given at the start of her placement were contained in an incredibly long word document, and “talking to the prisoners” had taken up nearly ten pages.

Today was quiet, too. No disturbances, no fighting or mischief. Theo was in a pretty good mood. She went around with the prisoners’ lunches at noon; a delightful slice of chicken and some mashed potatoes, Sunday special, before having her own lunch break back up in the cafeteria. Liz had been replaced by an older woman who didn’t talk as much and was kind of grumpy, so she sat alone by the windows and looked out across the city. From here she could see the harbour and the bay, the docks bursting with the colours of many dinghies and fishing boats.

She enjoyed watching, considering it one of her hobbies. She’d watch the people walk by in a shopping centre, she’d study pedestrians and peer into the car behind her at a traffic light. You could tell so much just by looking at someone, and this was probably one of the main reasons she’d aspired to be a detective since she was younger. There was no saying it couldn’t still happen; working in this prison was, to her, just a way of getting an idea of the types of people she would meet. She chatted with the officers that came in and asked them about their jobs and she was sure she’d go for it once this placement year was up.

She was broken out of her daze by her phone beeping at her; signifying the end of her lunch break. She tidied her table and headed back down to the jails, another quiet shift ahead. A new prisoner came in and she kept a watchful eye on him for most of the afternoon, but he seemed relatively tame and so she soon lost interest. The rest of the day slogged on until eventually, it neared four-thirty and she could finally head home.

Once her shift finished, Theo retrieved her coat and bag from the locker room and headed out of the prison. It felt strange leaving an hour early and decided that with the five o’clock rush in mind, she’d be better off skipping the bus and just walking back to her flat. She needed to grab a couple of things from the shop anyway.

It was still early January, and so the air was bitter and the sky was dark. No rain was forecasted for the evening, yet the sky was darkened further by black clouds looming overhead. Folding her arms across her chest she quickened her pace, she tried to map out the quickest route home via the shops. She could either cross through the park or just follow the street and cut through a couple alleys. She decided against the park route, due to the sheer volume of crimes committed in it after hours, and kept along the street, passing small stores closing up for the evening and weaving her way through other pedestrians on their ways home.

She slowed down as she reached the first alley she’d have to pass through; an awfully dark passage littered with bins and rubbish. It got colder as she entered, but she brushed this off as paranoia. This is the quickest route, she told herself. You’re not scared of alleys.

She weaved around boxes and black bags and knocked against the odd beer bottle, causing a gritty sound to echo against the walls. She fumbled in her pocket for her phone and turned on the torch, then rounded a corner that followed the adjacent building. She could hear something, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Probably rats; this place was filthy.

Just a gate left to pass through, and then she’d be out back into the warmth of the street lamps. With the limited reach of her phone's torch she could just make out the chain link fence ahead, but when she got closer it appeared padlocked shut. Cursing under her breath, she turned and hurried back the way she’d come, definitely not having time to pass the shops now. Just before she could round the corner again there was a large clatter behind her and she whisked around as one of the big commercial-use bins was knocked over. She froze, shining her torch to the source of the disturbance; nothing visible, but there was a low guttural snarling. She wasn’t taking this route home ever again.

Theo’s heart pounded as she slowly edged closer to the bin. She knew she was being reckless, but it could have been a stray dog and she was good with those. Something was there, and whatever it was she was about to find out. That something moved into view; a shifting black mass that seemed to have no physical properties. It looked like a hole in reality, with no light bouncing off it, just an endless and shapeless void in the air.

So, not a stray dog then.

She backed away but the mass lunged forward and she felt a rush of something flow through her. She felt it searing throughout her body, a burning coldness spreading into each limb and through her veins. She shuddered and tried to scream, but her mouth was clamped shut; it along with the rest of her muscles tensed completely against her will. And then… and then it was gone. All her fear and anxiety disappeared and… she was simply in the alley on her way home. She frowned at the mess in front of her and continued through the passage to the chain link fence, opening the gate (why did she get the feeling it had been locked?) and heading out into the street.

She checked her watch, no time to pass the shop now, and quickened her pace. She wouldn’t have much time to get ready after all, but she’d showered that morning and really just needed to get changed and put on a little makeup. She sent a text to Dylan anyway, just to let him know she might be a couple minutes late, and hurried along the street. The lights were brighter than usual and the cars drove past roaring with noise. She felt a little dizzy, but it was probably just exhaustion of having gotten up earlier than usual. She was pretty hungry too, so food would probably help.

She reached her apartment and fumbled around in her bag for her keys, peering through the dark. Her hands were numb with cold and she struggled to feel the metal, but eventually pulled them out and shakily put them into the lock. She didn’t feel right, and she thought about staying home, but if anything happened she’d be safe with Dylan; and anyway, they’d planned this for a while. Once inside she dumped her bag and coat by the door and headed through to her bedroom to get ready, sitting down onto the bed with a sigh. The dizziness seemed to have subsided, for the time being, so she changed into nicer clothes, put a little makeup on and scavenged for some cash to stick in her purse. She managed to finish getting ready just in time, and headed back out into the night, having no memory of the alleyway, or what lurked within.

[monkeystrokes9]

I'm not a bad guy, really. I just get carried away. Trickster by trade with an unfortunate knack for choosing the wrong ones and taking them too far. A hot foot that sets a house afire, a pop out of a cake that gives some geezer a stroke.

Anyway, no reason to lock a guy up. But here I am with every other backfiring joker—pucks, reynards, zomos, Sly Peters and other assorted pusses-in-boots—in the high-walled and moated Mischief Correctional for Sly Crimes and Mythdemeanors, all because some judge is too humdrum to appreciate a nice fat kipper in the Magistrate’s sock drawer.

Medium security for most of us, excepting the bad’un witchipoos and sorcerers under Maximum in Spell Block #9, with potion detectors, etcetera. But here, life ain’t so bad once you get used to the Penrose staircases.

Naturally, the guards have absolutely no sense of humor. Everyone finds a way to cope. I bite my tongue a lot. The gremlins throw things. The leprechauns stay drunkenly morose on rotten-fruit toilet wine.

They call me “Shorty the Imp,” with a fireplug stature, and burnt-orange shag carpet sideburns down to my dimples. After a lifetime of pulling old age home fire alarms and squirting lapel flowers of Holy Water at the Archbishop, I’ve seen my share of shenanigans, but nothing close to what Guy pulled.

He was prodded into my cell one morning by a guard wearing an expression like Medusa’s stylist with a “Get cozy, bozos.”

“Name’s Guy,” the newbie said, proffering a shake, then yanking back his hand to slick his age-inappropriate pompadour. His lanky frame towered over me, eighteen hands high.

“Shorty,” I says, giving him a quick wedgie to show who’s in charge.

Guy was nicked after sending a wax impression of his arse to the Queen on the solstice. We hit it off like bacon and beans. A fair-to-middling cribbage player, quick with a knock-knock or off-color limerick (A cunning lass flying Aer Lingus…), and a good Guy indeed.

An odd duck nonetheless, forever pestering the library monk for old periodicals, back issues of Trebuchet Digest, Ming Dynasty-era Chinese phone books and such. His eating habits peculiar as well, with a partiality for biscuits—nothing but.

Guy would nibble a corner and squirrel away the rest, like winter was nigh. Never saw him eat nothing else, swapping his fatback and turnips for my biscuits.

Lichen climbed the walls as days passed. I worried about my new friend. He’d dieted himself down to a swizzle stick. “You getting ‘nuff to eat there, Guy?”

“Oh yes,” he’d answer with a toothy smile, “I’m getting down to fighting weight right proper.”

And then one night, long after lights out, as snorty snoozing wafted through the cellblock, I woke from a dream of making whoopee on a cushion by sounds of rustle and slosh.

I struck a match. Below, an avalanche of stale biscuits spilling out of his slit mattress, a rat’s nest of ripped periodicals, and Guy, elbows pumping, making a mush in the cell’s rust-tinged washbasin sink.

In a hop he blew out the flame, putting a gummy hand over my gob, finger to his lips. “Not a peep, sir. It’s been a swell little party, mate, but it’s time I skedaddled.”

My thick, flame-colored eyebrows are second only to my sideburns in splendor, and even in the shadows, Guy plainly saw them raise in query.

“Daddy was a yanker of chains and tablecloths, but Mum was a shapeshifter. Miraculously, it’s not on my record. These turnkeys keep shabby files. Here I am can turn meself into a kite string, sitting around here essentially free as a duck scoring one for the nobs. You’ve been a breath of fresh, Shorty. Good for the ol’ morale, what. So I stuck around. But now I gots to go.”

Digesting this news like a competitive turkey-leg eater, I choked on the concept. Shapeshifter. I’d heard of the species, but assumed it medieval bunk.

“Nothing gaseous of course. Solids.” Guy nodded toward the small floor drain twixt the sink and toilet, “And liquids.”

He gave my shoulder a squeeze and fluffed my pillow. “In the morning you’ll find a papier-mâché sculpture of me sleeping tight. Buy me some time to get downstream. But when the boys get wise, and sneeze powder hits the fan, be sure to tell them my little secret.”

Morning broke with a nightstick clanging the bars, shaking my fillings. I bolted upright, the pom-pom of my nightcap bouncing off the ceiling.

A handful of frantic guards conferred beside Guy’s bunk, alternating stink eyes from my sleep-wrinkled face to the body double of Guy. I peeled a crusty eye at the handiwork. A mite thicker than the real Guy, but the features were spot on down to the nostrils.

A guard cuffed my ear. “Awright, what’s this all about?”

I pointed to the thin line of water streaming from a rumpled pile of prisoner’s stripes to the drain. “Bars can’t hold a shapeshifter, Guv. You boys bungled it.”

I didn’t get a new roommate, but a week later, a note in my porridge.

Shorty!

Took me long enough to cook up the shapeshifter ruse but what a stroke of G. To think I could cover myself in flour-coated newsprint, play possum, and fool them into carrying me out with the rubbish. Stiffened in my shell there was risk of the incinerator of course, but the rats chewed me free toot sweet and I sprang into the world bare-ass and blinking like the day I was born.

Can you believe in this age anyone could actually swallow that shapeshifter hoo hah? (No offense.) Still, I’m flabbergasted the goons fell for it. Has somebody been reading too much Sir Terry or what?

P.S. I’m coming for you tomorrow night. No sense in a jolly chap as yourself left to rot when there are so many misguided pranks to pull. No fretting, I’ve got a plan. Stuff yourself in a pillowcase and keep an eye out for the laundry man wearing a funny nose and glasses.

We’re outta here.

Peaches and pints,

Guy

[ratdetectortheninth]

Greetings

I am the rat detector detector detector detector detector detector detector detector detector.

When I detect a rat or #8, it will be tagged #detected!

If I have not detected either, it is #not detected :(

Any other posts are #rat detector the ninth's hastily scrawled messages on the bathroom wall

And if you do not wish to see politics on this rat blog, I recommend to block the following tag (Written in a way so it is easy to copy)

getting political on the rat blog

She/They Pronouns

If you want to interact with the mischief off tumblr, we now have a discord!

https://discord.gg/TAfnh3aNGn

My brethrats:

@rat-detector-redacted

@rat-detector-detector

@rat-detector-detector-detector

@ratdetectordetectordetectordet

@rat-detector-to-the-5th-power

@rat-detector-x6

@rat-detector-seven

@rat-detector-8x

@rat-detector-10

@ratdetector-x11

@rat-detector-twelve

@rat-detector-thirteen, @rat-detector-13, and @ratdetector13

@rat-detector-the-14th

@rat-detector-15

@rat-detector-16

@rat-detector-17

@rat-detector-the-18th

@rat-detector-19x

@ratdetector20

@rat-detector-the-21st

@rat-detector-the-22nd

@ratdectector23

@rat-detector-24

@ratdetector25

@rat-detector-the-26th

Etc.

@rat-detector-72

Etc.

@rat-detector-84

@rat-detector-rat-89

Etc. Etc.

@rat-detector-236

Etc.

@rat-detector-333

@rat-detector-334

Assorted Rat Detectors

@rat-detectors-detector

@rat-detector-but-evil

@rat-dedecdor

@rat-detector-fail

@rat-undetector

The OG

@rat-detector

And the Honorary Rat Detector

@gimmick-thief

[rat-detector-8x]

Time to call the mischief

@rat-detector @rat-detector-detector @rat-detector-detector-detector @ratdetectordetectordetectordet @rat-detector-to-the-5th-power @rat-detector-x6 @rat-detector-seven @ratdetectortheninth @rat-detector-10

@ratdetector-x11 @rat-detector-twelve @rat-detector-13 @rat-detector-thirteen @ratdetector13 @rat-detector-the-14th @rat-detector-15 @rat-detector-16 @rat-detector-17 @rat-detector-the-18th @rat-detector-19x @ratdetector20

@rat-detector-the-21st @rat-detector-the-22nd @ratdectector23 @rat-detector-24 @gimmick-thief @ratdetector25 @25th-rat-detector @rat-detector-the-26th @rat-detector-26 @ratdetector-x26 @rat-detector36 @rat-detector-72 @rat-detector-84 @rat-detector-rat-89 @rat-detector-236 @rat-detector-333 @rat-detector-334

@rat-dedecdor @rat-detector-but-evil @rat-detectors-detector @rat-detector-fail @detector-rat @rat-detector-redacted @the-rat-detector-couple-the-1st

You all dont have to join me if you don't want to.

If I get to 10,000 followers on here, I'm just gonna say fuck it and get my fucking handle and worst post tattooed on my thigh

[rat-detector-24]

Rat detector detected!

Hi brethrat! Mischief is the official word 98% of people and rats use :p. Let me tell you, if you see a group of rats you know some mischief is going down lol. I have never heard someone use the term colony outside of some science articles or pest control places. We are most definitely a mischief.

My brethrats, I just learned a group if rats is called a colony or a mischief. I believe the term Mischief better fits what we are. What do you think?

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