Firo grimaced when he saw the rat, pausing a moment to debate if he should risk moving forward. On the one hand, that was a damned nasty rat. On the other, maybe its bulk would keep it from moving too quickly...

"Phil." Firo said the answer as if he were about to pause to let Phil soak in the brilliance that was that joke, but he couldn't stop himself from babbling on with barely a pause. "Get it? Because he fills the hole, but it's also a guy's name that sounds the same."

Firo reached for a crate a few feet from the rat, not seeing the big old rusty halberd that leaned on it. The weapon was happy to make its presence known, though, when Firo disturbed its resting place--it crashed down on him before he even knew what was happening.

Payback for an awful joke, perhaps?