Their elephant feet are large, large enough to squish a large dog, or perhaps a small pony in one go. No, these creatures have no compassion and they play by their own rules. Between the hours of 10pm and 12am, they quiet down for their evening feast of hyena legs and kitten paws. 12pm signals the time that they start to begin the nightly ritual of the "elephant tribal dance" as us basement folk call it. For 3 hours straight, the elephants stomp, they bray, they play expert on rock band drums, they bounce on the bed, they even play dance dance revolution.
These versatile creatures are not ones to be messed with. With a swing of their trunk, they have enough force to send you cascading down the stairs to your death. They do not reason, and they will not cease their rock band sessions. My room mates and I have been coming up with plans to drive the heard out of our savana, however all attempts have failed.
So far we have tried punching the roof with our hands, slamming a broom handle into the ceiling and yelling profanities in elephantese. Alas, our attempts have gone unnoticed and we are forced to live in turmoil, only studying by the sanity which ear plugs give us.