Man vs. Nature
Let me make this perfectly clear: I realize that you, as a human almost six feet tall and weighing upwards of one hundred seventy pounds, hold all the bargaining chips in this deal, while I, a lizard barely four inches long, don’t have a lot to work with here. And I want to reiterate that I am NOT threatening you in any way. As I see it, we are two rational parties, both of whom possess a clear goal: you, to keep me out of your home by any means necessary, and I, to enter said home for a pre-determined length of time which, as I have stated again and again, will not be exceeded under any circumstances, and you have my word as a lizard on that. I literally just want to come in, take a quick look at what’s going on with the Packers game, get a score and see who’s got the ball, and then I will exit, with absolutely NO designs on creeping into your pipes and setting up shop there for months, even years, wallowing and bathing and delighting in the slippery goo therein, becoming the happiest of all God’s creatures. Dude, you have to believe me on this one: it’s just about five minutes of tube time to check on the game. Now, I do not recall ever having insinuated that if my request were not granted, I would sneak into your pipes some other way, and tell a few close friends about the hundreds of feet of slippery goo-filled piping there for the taking if we just marshal our efforts and try hard enough to slip in. I apologize profusely if you perceived my words as any sort of veiled plan to penetrate your home and pop my little head out of the kitchen sink from time to time when your wife least expects it, giving her a big old lizard Howdy before ducking back into the dark and glorious goo, where my body---tiny now, yes, I’ll admit---will double in size over the years.
So I guess we’re at a standoff. Again, ten minutes in front of the set and I’m history. If you don’t feel comfortable with this arrangement, then hey, no hard feelings, I’ll go on my way. As a fellow sports fan, I just thought you’d understand the fact that there’s a division up for grabs and I’m understandably concerned with how the Packers are doing. If I’ve misjudged you, my bad.
Okay, so….you’re seriously not going to let me in for ten lousy minutes? Oh for God’s sake, you can stand right beside me the whole time, and I’ll tell you what, I’ll dab my feet in whatever molasses you have lying around so I won’t be able to scamper off all of a sudden and disappear into a crack in the wall. What do I need, references? Look, I’m doing you a FAVOR here, when you think about it. When’s the last time you had ANYONE over? You sit around all day writing crackpot letters about Castro and piecing together Kennedy’s route through Dallas as if you’re going to DO anything. That’s right, I’ve been watching through the window, and let me tell ya, pal, you’re what they call a TALKER, not a DOER.
THANK you. Yes, the plan you propose is in fact one I will tentatively consider. I would say that it all depends on the size of the water glass you want to trap me under, and how confident you are that you can skoosh me across the floor using it as a little cage without getting my tail pinned under the rim. Also, I really must insist that I be allowed to walk out under my own power, with some kind of dignity, rather than being skooshed over the threshold. And I think we need to talk about snacks if I’m going to have to make the sacrifice of listening to the game with the sound all distorted because of the glass. You got some Ritz?