A small doodle I made as a gift for Ponywise, because I like her work so very much. As with most things, there’s a short story behind the phrase: “Did you get the bat in the sink”, as well as my little connection with little forty winks here.
When I was working in Dillingham, Alaska, I lived in the ‘pilot house’, that is to say, a house made to be home to two other pilots and one other ramper like myself who worked at the airport. We all shared the house and got along pretty well for the most part… And then came the Bats.
It was gradual, at first; I’d wake up in the night to a small squeak or two, then shrug it off and go back to bed. about a month later, however, the entire roof of the house was infested with bats. We found ourselves tired, and groggy, getting no sleep. Being sleep deprived, we began to get desperate, irritable, and a little bit down right crazy. (Including finding my boss, a former Marine Corps Captain, who happened to have 10+ years of combat experience in a special forces close-quarters battalion, standing outside with a shotgun “waiting for the bats” like a deranged version of the joker)
At any rate, the situation reached it’s apex one night, when we all awoke to a horrendous screech emanating from the kitchen. Naturally, everyone in the house wound up in the kitchen to investigate what was the matter; Then we saw it: A bat had found it’s way into the garbage disposal, and was caught there, screeching like mad.
Let me give you a quick picture of what the situation currently looks like. Randy, a big, black, 6’2, 240lb former boxer, from the bronx, stands in his whitey-tighties, clutching his son’s butterfly net. Gabe, a foul mouthed canadian is standing next to him clutching a loaded shotgun, also in whitey-tighties. next to him are my friend JAD, and myself. JAD is in his army boots with a grubby sweatshirt, no pants, holding a pistol. while I’m wearing his old army helmet, goggles attached to it on my face, shorts, and nothing else, whilst shouldering an AR-15.
Four Grown men, half naked, armed to the teeth with guns and childeren’s toys, deliberating what to do about a small mammal in our kitchen. Why were we so heavily armed? well, we’re in the middle of nowhere, Alaska. sometimes dangerous wild animals in your home is just a thing.
At this point, I failed to mention, we’re all also slightly tipsy from celebrating the farewell of a good friend. so there’s that. eventually, we decided that the best thing to do, was to carefully use a coathanger to lift the rubber sink stopper, let the bat out, catch it in the net, and let it out the door. It worked fairly good, except Gabe accidentally turned on the disposal (Fear not, the bat was unharmed), and randy, the giant man who lived his whole life in one of the most dangerous highschools in the country, screamed like a girl whilst running the bat outside.
things with the bats never seemed to be as bad after that, and to this day, we have the phrase “Did you get the bat in the sink” painted on the fridge as a memento. And that’s also why I feel a slight connection to a sleep deprived little equine with a bat on it’s butt.