Current mood: insatiable
Currently listening to: Jack Johnson - "Flake"

The light flickers. The candle tips over for no apparent reason-- well, wait. There is an underlying reason, literally: the rats have been at it again. Eating wax... those mutant, crazy rats of doom have been eating the base of the candle, and it tips over for a mildly apparent reason. Indeed, a mildly apparent reason after all.

The light goes out... and what is to occur thereafter? Can the miserable chunk of wax spring arms and utilize a lighter for self-illumination? Mayhaps an incantation of some form will work... but with no fire?

What a terrible dilemma, the candle has. Poor Mrs. Candle. Perhaps it should roll about. Roll about where? There? There there or there other there?

Hmm.

What strange things, the candles consumed by those voracious rats of doom.