In downtown New York, in a somewhat trashy apartment, lived a man named Howard. He was in his mid-twenties and had a terrible fear of cockroaches. If you've ever been to New York and stayed in a rundown place, you know there are too many to count!
One evening, Howard came home from work seeking relaxation. All he wanted was a bowl of ice cream and the newspaper. As he rummaged through messy cabinets for a bowl and spoon, a big, juicy cockroach jumped out of a drawer! After leaping in fright and calming down, he spotted another roach. "There's got to be a way to get rid of them," he muttered.
While eating his ice cream, an ad in the paper caught his eye: "Got Roaches? Come to Sam's Pet Club for the natural predator—a gecko!"
"A gecko?" Howard thought skeptically. As another roach scuttled past, he felt sick. It seemed worth a try. The next day, he visited the pet store.
He learned about the geckos, bought one, and drove home. "Great," he thought, "another critter loitering in my house."
At home, he released the gecko as instructed. It immediately chased a cockroach under the refrigerator. Howard heard a loud "GECKO, GECKO!"—the sound it makes when swallowing. "At least it's working," he said.
Days passed, and cockroaches became fewer. Howard didn't like the gecko running around, but shrugged it off—better one gecko than a thousand roaches. He always closed his bedroom door, but somehow the lizard always got in.
One evening, Howard saw the gecko chase one of the last roaches under the fridge. The cockroach scurried under easily, but the gecko struggled. That's when Howard realized: the gecko was getting bigger. That night, he tried everything to keep it out of his room before falling into a deep sleep.
The next morning, police found only a small, blood-like stain on the bed. A worried neighbor had reported a faint scream and a haunting "GECKO, GECKO!" sound. They searched everywhere but found nothing: no Howard, no gecko, no cockroaches. They left, confused, never to see Howard again. The only place they didn't check was under the bed, where the gecko was—big as ever, and full at last.