Ratatouille Fanfiction - Blog Posts

Ratatoiulle 2099: Part Two

I can't even taste it. Its just texture. The eggs are slimy. The peppers are rubbery. My teeth feel just as malleable in my brain, like im biting into my own skull. I should be grateful really. I'm actually fairly lucky to have a rat that compliments my lifestyle. God knows id be a shit cook without one (and lord knows I can't afford a rat cooked meal in a resturant). I guess thats the other thing that pisses me the fuck off. The media praises Remy of old, the first rat to pilot a human. Everyone knows how amazing and wonderful Remy is. It's all lies. Remy became like any other privleged elitist, his meals were never affordable for the common man. I used to love his recipes as a kid, when I turned 10 and I finally got my rat implanted. I was so excited my rat knew how to cook too. But I grow tired of this same bougee omelette. Maybe I wanna march on down to Pops Pancakes and gorge myself on the syrup soaked slappers. Maybe I just fucking will do that...

"Nobody actually remembers the ripenning of course. Its a day lost to history, presumably because the rats had nested into our brains. Personally i prescrive to the theory of the HO1 Waves creating a psychic disturbance across all rats. That they craved intellect as we once did as early humans...but nobody really knows for sure."

-Burt Essner in his book "The Rat Race: How Rats Became One."

Ratatouille 2099

The sink is dripping. Blood splatter reminds me of taking the hit. The sink is dripping, dragging like a cigarette. A delicacy, my final delicacy in a world I call dreary. What was once dreamy...

I have too much time to get lost in my thoughts so my therapist thought it worthwhile to write them out instead, write them out while the rat sleeps. Unfortunatley I just dont get much time to do that. With the neural link my concious mind is a dream state, and in my agitated restless state I may give the rat nightmares.

I was rereading the history of Ratatoiulle, of Remy controlling Linguini to create one of the most successtul restuarants in Paris. Back then it wasnt accepted to have the rats at all of course. I guess I got kinda stuck on the idea of how despicable rats were. How despicable they lived. Now were all despicable, and its just so damn normal.

Truth be told i never thought the rats were wierd until I started getting really high on weed. I felt like I, on my own, was something seperate from this rat. This congealed flesh that had grown with me to be a part of me. I feel...crazy.

I had to stare at my rat sleeping to understand things. Or maybe just to feel closer to who i was again. I watch it work in my dreams, watch it waltz the Ratway when I go out clubbing, high out of my mind. How can I or anyone be anything other then a rat? How could I remove a part of my face and still scream?

Rats were known to once inhabit the sewers in droves, living in darkness. Now we all live in darkness, in holy smelly darkness at the hands of rats.

-Burt Esener, Rat Philosopher