These things--horrible little things--have been creeping through the basement and the first floor of my house at night. I heard their noises for over a week before I started to get worried. The sound of dirty tonails, clattering on the wooden stairs ticked each night. They were sharp enough to leave greasy scratches on the linoleoum. Then I began to notice the smell: A sticky sweet garlic and cinnamon and motor oil haze. It wafted though the house and sill left a trace each morning.

But they were always gone with the sunrise. Or at least gone for a while.

A few nights ago, they began to get bolder. I was barely asleep, when I woke to that evil sweet smell. It was nearly pitch black, but I could tell there was something standing a few inches above my face. I caught a faint glimpse of it in the glow of my radio. It was was like a shriveled dark baby, or maybe some kind of monkey. I don't really know what it was. It was crouching over me. It was missing one eye.

I gasped, and it scampered out of the room. It was as fast as a cat.

Later, I turned all the lights on in the house. (I was too scared to go down into the basement though.)

I don't know how I got the idea, but I took out the gallon of Tuscan Whole Milk I had in my refrigerator, and poured almost half of it into a large bowl and left it in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Now I hear slurping noises at night, and still catch of whiff of that sick smell. But the little things never come up to the second floor any more.

Until I move to a new house, I will never stop buying Tuscan Whole Milk.