An early-morning encounter with a Ouija slug

Yesterday morning I made my way downstairs to go to the bathroom, flipped on the light, and immediately noticed out of the corner of my eye that there was a dark blob in the shower. What was it, a giant beetle, and should I squish it? I didn't have my glasses on, so I edged closer to discover...a slug! Okay, squishing was out, because although slugs look squishy they are actually unpleasantly firm, sinewy, and sticky. (A fact which anyone who has ever stepped on a slug in their bare feet can attest to.) What to do? Salt it? Set it free? While I was making up my mind the slug started moving.

Slug: (squirm squirm squirm)

Me: Ah, you're making an "S." Well, all slugs can do that.

Slug: (wriggle wriggle wriggle)

Me: Oh, a "W." Now that's pretty impressive. I didn't think you were long enough for that. What's that you're doing now?

Slug: (writhe writhe writhe)

Me: Is it a "C"? No, a "J." Or is it an "A"? I feel like you need some vowels if you're going to spell something. Is that what you're doing?  

Slug: (flop flop flop)

Me: Of course, it seems to me you'd have a hard time doing really angular letters, like a "T" for instance. How could you possibly make a "T"? You couldn't, could you, and what if that were your next letter? 

Slug: (sludge sludge sludge)

Me: What is it boy, what are you trying to tell me? Wait a minute - S,W, A...T. SWAT! Sweet jeepers, is that it? Are they watching the house right now? You can just nod your head or something, you don't have to spell it all out.

Slug: (slalom, slalom, slalom)

Me: I think I'd better put you outside, otherwise they'll know we had time to talk.

And with that I tore a page out of a magazine, scooped him up, tossed him and the paper out the front door, and went back upstairs to bed, where my last thoughts before sleep consisted of wondering whether or not the slugs were trying to contact me, and if they were, would Hermione Granger be willing to relinquish her title of Queen of the Slugs to me?