Unnamed Ball Python

Gender: Unknown.
Age: Unknown
Length: 1', last I knew.
Nature: Docile. Snakelike.
Reason for Former Status: Dead.

My first snake

I rescued this thing from its previous owner, after they decided they no longer wanted it, and thought maybe it would be cool to let it have a swim in a party ball of Budweiser.

I couldn't keep it in the barracks, so I smuggled it onto an aeroplane when I went to visit Gremlin, and left it with him.

Stoopid happened; he couldn't keep it. So this guy, Nyberg, offered to take care of it until I could take it back. He said it'd be no problem, he was planning on getting a snake anyway. No strings attached, and all.

I come out. I try to get the snake back. No deal.

I try again. He claims that his girlfriend thinks it's hers.

People start telling me 'well, maybe you should pay him back.'

Sorry, not in the agreement.

I finally corner Nyberg and ask him about getting my snake back. He hits me with: 'well, I spent so much on it, I think you owe me something in return.'

How much could you possibly spend on a ball python in the space of a few months?

Apparently, according to Nyberg, $500. on the housing alone.

Bullshit.

His girlthing at the time -- this vapid stripper -- jumped into the conversation with something about 'it's not your snake anymore'.

I gave up. Between Nyberg trying to scam me, and the thing that's now called 'the vacant stare' [I guess I never should've used that 'she thinks you're a witch' thing to my advantage.], I wasn't going to get anywhere.

I found out shortly before I moved to Des Moines that the snake had died a while before that.

Nyberg overfed it.

Seems he didn't like how small it was, and wanted it to be bigger faster -- so it'd be 'cool', y'know?

Idiot.