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Me, leaving kitchen, seeing movement at floor level: *girly shriek*
Dave: You okay?
Me: ... Wait, yes. I thought it was a cockroach, but it's a skink. *crouches* Come here, sweetheart, houses aren't for you, let me take you outside...
It was about an inch long, velvety soft to touch oh-so-carefully, and is now in the back garden.
If it had been a cockroach, I would have terminated it with extreme prejudice. But I like skinks. And so, it lives.
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