He heard knocking on his door, and he set down his tea.

“Quint Extermination and Delivery service.” The large man spoke. His uniform, two sizes too small.

“Oh, what do you deliver?” Elmer asked, out of curiosity.

“Good service.” The man replied, stepping into Elmer’s mudroom.

“Thats good to hear, I’ve got quite the pickle down here.” Elmer began, guiding the man to his basement.

“I think it might be mice.” Elmer said, gesturing towards his basement walls.

Dried blood painted the drywall, dripping maroon letters read:

FEAR US

The man tilted his head, adjusting his glasses to read the foreboding message.

“I don't think mice can spell.” The man suggested, pulling a notepad out of his back pocket.

“I suppose you're the expert.”

Elmer scratched his head.

“Have you seen any mice around?” The man questioned, clicking his pen.

“No, but I’m pretty sure they sacrificed a pig down here last Tuesday.”

“What makes you say that?”

“There was a pig sacrificed down here, last Tuesday.”

“I see.” The man scribbled something into his notepad.

“I think that’s where they got the blood from.” He tells the man.

“What make you say that?”

Elmer points to the left wall, where bloody letters spell out:

WE GOT THIS BLOOD FROM THE PIG

“I see.” The man commented once more.

“They also organized my winter linens.” Elmer mentions. Gesturing to the neatly folded knits that sat on a high shelf.

“That’s rather unusual.”

“I think they felt bad about the pig.”

The man quickly writes something down in his notepad, before turning to face Elmer.

“I don't think you have mice.” The man says.

“Then who's my eating all my cheese?” Elmer asks, bewildered.

”Perhaps you have.”

“I hadn't thought of that.” Elmer admits.

“I believe your basement has been infested with Trubbles.” The man announces.

“I’ve never heard of those. How do you get rid of them?” Elmer asks.

“I'm not sure, I've never never heard of them either.” The man replies.

“Well, then how do you know what they're called?”

The man gestures to the right wall, stained red with the words:

WE ARE TRIBBLES

“Oh, I hadn't noticed that.” Elmer states, examining his wall.

“Perhaps I should call my boss.” The man suggests.

“What for?” Elmer asks, rubbing a knick on the wall with his sleeve.

“I don't think I’ll be coming into work tomorrow.”

“Why is that?” Elmer turns to face the man, who is now being tied up by small dwarves.

“I am being tied up, by small dwarves.” The man explains.

“Yes I can see that.” Elmer responds.

“Why are you tying him up?” Elmer asks the little creatures, currently binding the exterminator.

One of the dwarfs points to the back wall.

Bloody letters spell out:

WE EAT HUMAN FLESH

“Well that explains it.” Elmer mutters, “I really ought to pay better attention to these things.“

The small creature shrugs.

“I’d offer you some cheese instead, but it seems I've eaten it all.” Elmer explains.

The dwarf gestures towards the ceiling, where bloody words stare down at Elmer:

WE’RE LACTOSE INTOLERANT

“Well this is starting to get embarrassing.” Elmer admits.

He turns away as the little trubbles begin to eat the man.

“I suppose I better alert the authorities.” Elmer thinks aloud.

The small creature who Elmer decided must be the ringleader, hands him a small business card from under his hat.

It read: Truby’s Body Removal and Lawncare

“I’m not sure how I feel about hiring you, given the circumstances.”

The creature pulls a coupon out from under his shoe and hands it to Elmer.

”Oh alright.”