Oh Hello!
"STOP! Please don't scream or shriek! I know I am a rat, but I am a most friendly one! Ah, thank you. I apologize for my rather frightening appearance, though, I do believe I look rather dashing today. But that's beside the point. My name is Tripe. Yes, I am aware that tripe is food made from the stomach lining of farm animals. Yes, I am also aware that it means 'nonsense' or 'meaningless'. But where I'm from everyone is named after unusual foods. Why? Simple really. We're rats. And we love food. But why don't I show you around?"
With a quick leap, Tripe jumped off the rusty metal pipe he had been perching on and dropped to the muddy, worn cobblestones. He scurried over to where an old sewer drain was protected by a metal grate.
"In here!" Tripe explained, pointing to a small hole in the corner of the grate.
"Oh yes, I see. You can't fit."
Tripe pondered the conundrum for a moment, scratching his little paw on his chin.
"Well, you are the reader. Why don't you shrink yourself down and turn yourself into a rat? Don't worry, everyone down Below is very accepting of new members of the family. You don't know how you say? Why think rat-like thoughts of course! Come on, now, focus. Little paws, long tail, skinny nose, scamper, steal, nibble, run from cats... There you go! A more handsome rat I never did see. Off we go, then! In the hole, after you!"
Tripe leaped into the thin hole and chuckled to himself as he slid down the pipe. He sat up on his hind legs once he hit the bottom and rubbed his whiskers with his paws.
"Ahh, that's always such a fun ride!"
Tripe shook himself, then dropped down on his four legs and scurried off down the pitch-black tunnel, his big rat eyes seeing perfectly fine in the dark.
"Good evening, Bubble! Hello, Squeak!"
Tripe drops down another slide tunnel and greets the two rats at the bottom.
"Evening, Tripe. How was the Above today?"
Tripe licked his paw, then used it to clean some mud from behind his ear.
"Oh, same old, same old. I did find a new friend! This is..."
Tripe hesitated.
"Well, I don't know your name. But nevermind, new family members always get new names anyway. I'll take you to Alpharat; he'll decide your name."
Tripe decided, and the two rats on either side of him nodded in agreement.
"See you first thing tomorrow then, boys!"
Tripe scampered off down another dark tunnel.
"Bubble and Squeak, Border Guards. They monitor everyone who goes Above. We go outside and collect things the humans left behind. Where did they go? No one knows. Some of the Councilrats say that the LoudBoom that gave us our increased intelligence made them go away."
Tripe turned and pointed to a hole that led into darkness in the ground.
"This tunnel leads to the main meeting hall. That's where we're going."
Without further ado, Tripe jumped into the hole face-first and slid down it. He popped out the other side and fell a good three feet before landing on what looked like a giant trampoline made of sewn together bits of cloth. He crawled off of it to the metal floor.
"Wooh! That always gives me a headache," he moaned, placing a paw to his head before gesturing around him. The large room was full of rats and old human objects, lit by only a few candles.
"This is the main meeting hall. It's big, I know, but we're a big family. Over twenty thousand of us live here, in the Sewerhome. The Councilrats regulate how many new members of the family are born so there's always enough food and beds to go around."
Tripe dashed through a maze of cans, bottles, boxes, and crates before stopping at one, very large, refrigerator box that had been chewed to resemble a stage.
"Tripe!"
A large brown rat hurried up to Tripe.
"Oh, hello, Scotch! Scotch Woodcock, I'd like you to meet the newest member of our family! Scotch is the head bodyguard for the Alpharat," Tripe explained.
"'Allo. Tripe, I need ta talk ta you," Scotch panted.
"Alright, Scotch. What seems to be the matter?"
"Tis Alpharat. He be dying."
"Dying?" Tripe squeaked.
"Yes! And he wants ta talk ta you!"
"Oh, yes, of course! I'll go immediately!"
"Come on, then!" Tripe called before dashing off.
Passage 3 of 3