"The wheeled rubbish bin sat silently in the darkness. Not that the darkness was silent, oh no, there were small noises around it. Tiny scurrying and scuttling noises. Creeping and crawling. All those tiny noises that make most people shudder in fear of just what light might reveal should it appear suddenly enough to illuminate those things that were just moments ago making sounds."
"Wait, things? Like the Thing in the Bin?"
"No. Not like the Thing in the Bin. Now hush.
As I was saying, the wheeled rubbish bin sat silently but there was not..."
"You already said that part."
"Thank you. Really. Now hush up and let me continue.
Should a light go on..."
"I was just trying to be helpful."
"No. You weren't. You never are."
"You're sulking, aren't you? I know it. I just know you are now sulking and being petulant like a child."
"You didn't need to be so mean."
"Fine. I'm sorry. Can I get back to the story now?"
"Good. In the darkness that was filled with little noises, the wheeled rubbish bin was no longer alone. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was surrounded by all those things that lurk and creep and scuttle in the darkness. One particularly brave cockroach slowly scuttled just a little closer, its antennae quivering at the thought of being so near. So close. It was the Wheeled Rubbish Bin. Not that any of those things standing witness ever actually called it that. The did not even necessarily have a name for it. This grand and wondrous thing simply was. The fact that it was was sufficient for all of them.
They gathered in homage. Cockroaches, beetles, mice, worms, ants."
"Lice. Don't forget the lice. And what about raccoons? Were there any racoons?"
"What did I say about interrupting? And of course there weren't any raccoons. What kind of a story do you think this is?
Now. Where was I? Oh yes. These creatures gathered around the Wheeled Rubbish Bin and stared adoringly at it. It was the source of all. It was the Ultimate for them. It provided. The transcendent mystery for all.
A stillness slowly spread through the creatures, sweeping like an invisible wave through the darkness. The oldest of the mice slowly hobbled reverently forward. He was lauded for his wisdom. Also for the simple fact that he had escaped a trap back in the dusty mists of time (or last year, as we might reckon things), his tail crooked, and yet still lived to tell the tale and continue his existence. With quiet piety he let his whiskers silently brush the bin."
"Something happened, I bet. Something always happens at times like this!"
"Did you lose your mind at some point? It is a rubbish bin."
"A wheeled rubbish bin."
"Fine. A wheeled rubbish bin. But what on earth are you suggesting might have happened? Oh, alright. Yes, something happened. The mouse reached out even more slowly and deferentially with his paw, gently touching one of the wheels. It was rather unfortunate, actually. The wheeled rubbish bin had been on an incline, balanced precariously. That tiny touch was just enough to dislodge it and it suddenly lurched into movement, drawn forth by gravity."
"Oh no! Please, don't say..."
"Yes. It ran over the mouse. Squish. Also caught a couple cockroaches, some lice. It might be empty - except for the Thing - but it still weighed enough to do some damage."
"Is that the end to your story? That was what all the fuss was about?"