The Ratling could hear them before he could see them. The patter of hundreds of paws against the cold metal of the ship. They'd emerged from the deep bowls of the ship to feed, and feed they would.
The Ratling unleashed a hail of bullets into the dark but they found no purchase. They were above him, walking atop the pipes. They descended on him from the dark above the Chihuahuas knew no end. Finally their teeth found purchase and he was dragged kicking and screaming back into the darkest depths of the ship to feed their pups. His screams the only thing for the other Ratlings to remember him. - FJ fag