Well, hello, Hotheads, and welcome to another episode of Too Hot for Radio.

This is your host, a parin and charla.

And if you know our show, you know we faithfully deliver the naughty short stories we wouldn't dare air on public radio.

At Too Hot, we pride ourselves on being simultaneously lowbrow and highbrow.

Average it out and the show is one steady middlebrow, like a Frida Kahlo portrait.

Or that reliable caterpillar of forehead fuzz, Neanderthals rocked back in the day.

Yes, yes, Neanderthals rocked. I see what I did there.

Now, I will smoothly segue back to two other extremes, fame and infamy. From a distance, these things

seem pretty different, but when you look more closely, fame and infamy are really

two sides of the same coin. If fame is making billions, infamy is stealing billions. Fame, playing

cops and movies. Infamy, impersonating police officers. Fame being pretty. Infamy, being pretty terrible. You get it.

And the difference between good attention and bad attention is sometimes razor thin.

Say you're trying to achieve your 15 minutes of fame as promised by Andy Warhol back in the 60s.

You may end up being asked to holler your catchphrase on command everywhere you go for the

rest of your life. Good or bad attention, it's attention, and that's what a lot of us want.

All of this brings us to today's story, which is about distinguished vermin.

It's about finding a schick and exploiting it.

It's about love, loss, and vomit.

I'm going to assume that some of you have heard of pizza rat

and the image of a grizzled rodent dragging an

entire New York slice down some subway stairs pops right to mind? If you don't know it,

Google Pizza Rat before you listen to this story and join the rest of us in our admiration and terror.

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