The Pink Thing on the Wall: A Crunchy Mystery in Three Acts
It was just another bleary-eyed morning. Coffee gurgling, brain still buffering, my to-do list nothing but static. I shuffled into the kitchen expecting the usual—silence, caffeine, maybe a piece of toast.
Instead, I found it.
Stuck to the corner where the wall meets the ceiling was something I can only describe as… a pink, crunchy-looking creature. Or maybe it was a fossilized candy? Or a shrimp someone stuck there as a joke decades ago and forgot? Whatever it was, it looked wrong.
Eight centimeters long. Curved slightly like a seahorse with bad posture. And pink—Pepto-Bismol pink. Like bubblegum left under a desk in 1993 and rediscovered during renovations.
Step One: Panic (Quietly)
I did what any responsible adult would do when confronted by a possible alien parasite pre-coffee:
I backed away. Then I stared. Then I took a photo. Then I uploaded said photo to Reddit.
Within minutes, the hive mind came alive:
“Looks like spray foam insulation that escaped the void.”
“Old caulk reacting to humidity.”
“Clearly the start of a horror movie. Burn your kitchen down and move.”
Some were helpful. Others were delightfully unhinged. A few made me question whether Reddit had ever seen a real wall before.
The Landlord Arrives (And Immediately Ruins the Plot Twist)
A few hours later, I called my landlord. Let’s call him Steve, because that’s his vibe: cargo shorts, eternally chewing gum, and the emotional range of a brick.
He walks in, sees the Thing clinging to my wall, nods once, and says:
“Oh, yeah. Just old sealant. Probably squeezed out from behind the drywall. Happens sometimes.”
Then—without gloves, without fear, without ceremony—he wipes it away with a single disinfectant cloth. It made a crunch that I still hear in my nightmares.
“Call me if it grows back,” he muttered, already halfway out the door.
Wait… That’s It?
Steve’s explanation made sense. Sort of. Maybe it was old insulation foam or aging caulk from some forgotten home repair. Or maybe a weird chunk of spray sealant finally gave up and oozed free, like a ghost bubble from a previous tenant.
But here’s the thing: it didn’t look like foam. It didn’t feel like a house thing. It looked like something that shouldn’t be. And Steve didn’t even blink.
So, What Do You Do When You Find a Crunchy Pink Mystery on Your Wall?
Here’s what I’ve learned:
Do NOT touch it with your bare hands. It could be foam. It could be fungus. It could be interdimensional goo. You don’t want to find out the hard way.
Take pictures. Trust me, no one will believe you if you don’t. And if it vanishes, you’ll want proof that it was ever real.
Check your walls and ceilings. Look for cracks, vents, screw holes, or tiny portals to the Upside Down.
Summon your landlord. Even if all they do is wipe it away, you’ve at least passed the responsibility to someone else. That’s half the battle.
Prepare for the crunch. Because no matter what, there will be a crunch. And you will never be emotionally ready for it.
Final Thoughts from the Blob Zone
Maybe it was just expired insulation foam that decided to make one last appearance before dissolving into legend.
Maybe it was part of the house’s immune system, trying to spit something out. Or maybe it was an alien scout, and I missed my shot at becoming Earth’s ambassador.
Either way, the corner is clean now. But I still glance up there when I walk into the kitchen. Just in case.
Because sometimes, the weirdest thing about your home isn’t the rent. It’s the stuff that oozes out of the walls at 7 a.m. before you’ve had your first sip of coffee.