Stowing away in your earbuds, gnawing at your stores, and leaping from your dark corners at your tender ears, it’s James Herbert’s The Rats! A verminous return to the kind of bad book that’s always the best: the kind where, every couple pages, somebody nearly has sex and absolutely gets eaten by giant rats.

If you ever wanted a book about mutant rats invading the slums of London, then The Rats is for you — and if you didn’t, what are you doing listening to IDEOTVPOD, anyway? It’s time. Grab your flashlight, pull on your heaviest gloves, and come with J. and Clsn on an exploration of two hundred of the rat-infestedest pages anyone has ever seen. It’s time for … The Rats.