I lived in the attic and my room was all pointy angles and odd shaped cupboards. At the end of a large walk in wardrobe was the most curious thing on the wall:
A stop sign.
Even more curiously, the stop sign was attached by a hinge. It was in fact, a doorway to another secret passage. One of the many in this strange old house. Barely big enough for an adult to crawl through, the passageway beyond the stop sign door was carpeted in dark green shag pile.
When I first discovered the stop sign for what it was, a doorway, naturally I opened it. And two gimlet eyes met my own. Sitting on the dark green shag pile carpet, as if awaiting my arrival, was a rat.
It was an old house filled with old furniture and riddled with secret tunnels. A rat was no surprise. Although I didn't fancy him running across my bed in the night, or munching through my lunch when my back was turned.
So I made a bargain with the rat. I said, "Mr. rat, if you will promise to stay this side of this stop sign and leave my room alone, I will promise to lay no traps or poison nor tell the landlord of our meeting."
The rat nodded and scampered off.
I never saw him again and neither him nor his ratty brethren ever entered my room.
This is a true story.