Last night I had a terrifying encounter with this freakish beast.
After eating KFC (Khouvieng Fried Chicken) and hanging out with us for awhile, our friend Carol was heading home. Tony opened the kitchen door, and this bizarre gecko came zipping in. It was unlike any gecko I’ve seen, and I’ve seen about a gazillion of them. About five inches long, it sported a massive head that was out of proportion with its skinny body, and its gait lacked the fluid speed of its ubiquitous cousins. When it dashed across the kitchen floor, its hind end swiveled sending the back legs into an exaggerated swing with each quick step.
As we laughed at its high-stepping trot up the cupboard, the gecko took refuge under our countertop convection oven. Carol speculated that it was a baby version of the gargantuan geckos that generally stay hidden and call out their ghostly high-pitched synthesizer voices: “GECK-oh, GECK-oh.”
Every day, geckos scramble up the walls and across the ceilings, pop out from behind curtains and furniture, appear in our shoes and bath towels, and otherwise cohabitate with us. Recently I got a little surprise when one jumped out of the toilet paper roll as I was pulling off a strip. We generally find them whimsical and amusing.
However, the mutant gecko in our kitchen looked like it was up to no good, so we decided to put it back outside. Carol and I scooted the convention oven out of the way and stared, wondering how to catch the little guy. She suggested using the metal salad tongs. I grabbed the tongs and gently clamped the gecko. As soon as I did, it turned and opened its huge mouth with a horrifying hiss. Carol and I shrieked, grabbed each other and instinctively backed away.
Final Score:
Mutant Gecko – 1
The Dents – 0
Carol went home, and we bolted the kitchen door and went to bed to dream of comically disproportionate reptiles lurking behind our kitchen appliances.
Here’s a video Carol took of the rescue attempt.
