Larry takes the snake home and puts it in his wardrobe, which he has shoved into the corner of his cupboard under the stairs. His aunt screeches at him to sweep the kitchen floor before his cousin and uncle get home.
“Hey,” says the snake. “You want me to go out there and bite her? I’m hella poisonous.”
Larry thinks about it. “No,” he sighs. “I’d get blamed. Just let me know if you find a secret passage in that wardrobe into a frozen wonderland, with talking beavers and a fawn.”
The snakes shakes its head. “You have problems kid.”