"Reeeeeee~!" Came the high pitched squeak, the raccoon's eyes reflecting in the flaslight before it turned and waddled - it was too closed in and too fat to properly run - away.
"... did that thing just make the noise from Aliens?" Bobby was of course, referring to the squee that the chest-alien made as it ran away. Before the raccoon got too far away, Bobby 'picked' it up, and the poor raccoon hung midair, butt first, thrashing and making displeased noises.