"You dirty rat! You killed my brotha! Oooooooh..."
THE DEMON RAT WARS: UPDATE
Might be a little graphic.
Operation: Kidnap was a success. Last night my dad brought home some Sticky Rodent Traps (catches mice, rats, spiders, and SCORPIONS?) and we placed 6 around the house. Two in front of the rat hole in the kitchen, two in the basement near the water pipe where I saw them drink, and one at each corner of the crawlspace.
Within an hour, we caught the "baby rat" that I had seen in the kitchen. Unfortunately, as we spied on him from around the corner, we saw it was a little mouse, and not a baby rat. The poor thing was kinda cute too. He had these huge, cartoonish "aren't I cute?" eyes that pleadingly stared up at us, partly because he wanted us to let him go, partly because the other side of his head was glued to the trap. My dad took him outside and scraped him off with a stick. We'll let nature run its course.
I did some research on the net and he looked like a Deer Mouse. Look them up. They can be quite cute. They can also be quite deadly, as they're one of the only known rodents to transmit the hantavirus to humans. Wonderful. So in one to six weeks, you'll know if we caught it or not. The good news is, you can't transfer it person to person. So you are all safe.
This morning I woke up and really didn't want to go to the basement. My dad didn't stay here again last night, so if there were any enemy captures downstairs, I would have to deal with it, and it wouldn't be pleasant, could be dangerous, and would almost certainly be messy.
After a few hours, I poked my head into the basement. Sure enough, an ugly little (I should say huge) sucker was trapped on TWO of the glue traps near the water pipe. Buddy, my dog, went over to sniff him (I hope), and that thing let out the most awful cries. A mixture of terrible screeching, weeping, squeaking, and I swear I heard a lil "Hellllp meeeeeeeeee" in there too.
I didn't know what to do. Shoot it? That would be a mess. Leave it to starve? The dogs might try to get to it again and inadvertently glue their noses next to the rat, which the rat could then try to chew off, since his head wasn't glued. He was sort of sprawled out on his stomach, both legs spread apart on one glue trap, his body attached to the other. And this guy must have struggled for awhile, bc he had moved both glue traps a foot away from where we placed them. And he had pretty much crapped himself all over. From nose to beginning of tail, he was almost as long as one of the traps.
After a few hours (I had to watch my Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns) , a call to my dad, and after reading some of the comments in the last entry, I knew what I had to do.
Put on a jacket.
Grab a shovel.
Time for an execution.
Once I got the shovel near the rat, he started squeaking and hissing, and calling me names in Rattish I was sure. He tried to bite the shovel. I didn't enjoy toying with him, and I noticed the more he struggled around the shovel, it looked like he might break himself free. So I had better hurry.
I scooped up both traps in the shovel and carried him outside. It's raining in Charlotte now, so it's a pretty gloomy day. Gray, wet- a bad day to die. I carry him to the edge of the woods and lay the shovel down and watch. I take a few photos with my disposable camera, for posterity. Once this camera is developed, I will post the pictures here. He struggles some more, and I realize the rain might be helping him break free of his bonds. And I can't have this rat escape and run back to his friends. My superior officer would have my head on a plate.
So I dash back to the house, run up the stairs, and equip myself with the pellet gun. On the march back to the rat, I consider scraping him off the traps and letting him loose. Surely the glue on his hands and feet wouldn't allow him to run back to his base, but I can't risk it. What if I just throw both traps into the woods and let a predator pick him off? I can't risk allowing another animal to catch itself in the glue. I consider burying him alive. Yeeeeech, no thanks.
So, let the war drums begin. It's time for an execution. I give him his last rites. I make the sign of the cross, say a little prayer for him, and take aim. I look through the scope and line up the sights right with his head. Take a deep breath. Pull the trigger.
PFFT! SCRREEEEEEEE!
Dang. I must have missed. But he's screeching like he got hurt? I don't get it. I aim again.
PFFT! SCREEEEE!
Dangit, I hate that sound. I'm not having fun. I feel like I'm torturing the poor guy. Maybe these pellets aren't big enough. Maybe they are ricocheting right off his head? Maybe the thing isn't loaded? There's not a scratch on him. Sigh. I'll try one last time. Line up the sights. Take a breath. Pull the trigger.
Got him. But not where I wanted. I should have realized at that close range, the scope's sights would be a little higher than where he would actually get shot. This time, though I aimed for his head, I see an entry wound in his side. Thick blood is oozing out, he's struggling a little bit. Now that I know to aim a little higher, I consider shooting him in the head, and ending his misery. But his thrashing is slowing down. His head falls to the side. His little feet and toes are wriggling, but not as much as before. I examine the wound and determine I probably punctured both lungs with that shot. I may have even gotten close to his heart. After a minute, his feet stop moving, and I am completely sure he is no longer breathing.
I do the sign of the cross once more, and contemplate what to do with the corpse. Take him off the glue and toss him in the woods? Nah. Bury him? I don't want the dogs digging him up in the spring, and there's no good soil nearby. No, I get a trash bag, slip him and the traps into it, tie a knot, and dump him in the trash can. Adios, little buddy. You put up a good fight.
When I get back into the basement, I notice the trap that was set in the far far corner of the crawlspace is missing. Crap. I bet a rat got caught, struggled, and tipped the thing over, so he fell back into the corner that is full of wood, molding, and other stacked up junk. I walk around with a big spotlight, and bang on the heater, talking all the while, but I hear no screeching. I hear no struggling. Perhaps he's dead?
I don't know. All I know, is I don't want to go back there looking for it, only to have the Big Daddy Demon Rat jump on me from above in the crawlspace. So, I'm biding my time. I just hope shooting the rat wasn't bad karma. I've got this feeling the other rats have it in for me now. I better watch my back...
--Cbake
Might be a little graphic.
Operation: Kidnap was a success. Last night my dad brought home some Sticky Rodent Traps (catches mice, rats, spiders, and SCORPIONS?) and we placed 6 around the house. Two in front of the rat hole in the kitchen, two in the basement near the water pipe where I saw them drink, and one at each corner of the crawlspace.
Within an hour, we caught the "baby rat" that I had seen in the kitchen. Unfortunately, as we spied on him from around the corner, we saw it was a little mouse, and not a baby rat. The poor thing was kinda cute too. He had these huge, cartoonish "aren't I cute?" eyes that pleadingly stared up at us, partly because he wanted us to let him go, partly because the other side of his head was glued to the trap. My dad took him outside and scraped him off with a stick. We'll let nature run its course.
I did some research on the net and he looked like a Deer Mouse. Look them up. They can be quite cute. They can also be quite deadly, as they're one of the only known rodents to transmit the hantavirus to humans. Wonderful. So in one to six weeks, you'll know if we caught it or not. The good news is, you can't transfer it person to person. So you are all safe.
This morning I woke up and really didn't want to go to the basement. My dad didn't stay here again last night, so if there were any enemy captures downstairs, I would have to deal with it, and it wouldn't be pleasant, could be dangerous, and would almost certainly be messy.
After a few hours, I poked my head into the basement. Sure enough, an ugly little (I should say huge) sucker was trapped on TWO of the glue traps near the water pipe. Buddy, my dog, went over to sniff him (I hope), and that thing let out the most awful cries. A mixture of terrible screeching, weeping, squeaking, and I swear I heard a lil "Hellllp meeeeeeeeee" in there too.
I didn't know what to do. Shoot it? That would be a mess. Leave it to starve? The dogs might try to get to it again and inadvertently glue their noses next to the rat, which the rat could then try to chew off, since his head wasn't glued. He was sort of sprawled out on his stomach, both legs spread apart on one glue trap, his body attached to the other. And this guy must have struggled for awhile, bc he had moved both glue traps a foot away from where we placed them. And he had pretty much crapped himself all over. From nose to beginning of tail, he was almost as long as one of the traps.
After a few hours (I had to watch my Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns) , a call to my dad, and after reading some of the comments in the last entry, I knew what I had to do.
Put on a jacket.
Grab a shovel.
Time for an execution.
Once I got the shovel near the rat, he started squeaking and hissing, and calling me names in Rattish I was sure. He tried to bite the shovel. I didn't enjoy toying with him, and I noticed the more he struggled around the shovel, it looked like he might break himself free. So I had better hurry.
I scooped up both traps in the shovel and carried him outside. It's raining in Charlotte now, so it's a pretty gloomy day. Gray, wet- a bad day to die. I carry him to the edge of the woods and lay the shovel down and watch. I take a few photos with my disposable camera, for posterity. Once this camera is developed, I will post the pictures here. He struggles some more, and I realize the rain might be helping him break free of his bonds. And I can't have this rat escape and run back to his friends. My superior officer would have my head on a plate.
So I dash back to the house, run up the stairs, and equip myself with the pellet gun. On the march back to the rat, I consider scraping him off the traps and letting him loose. Surely the glue on his hands and feet wouldn't allow him to run back to his base, but I can't risk it. What if I just throw both traps into the woods and let a predator pick him off? I can't risk allowing another animal to catch itself in the glue. I consider burying him alive. Yeeeeech, no thanks.
So, let the war drums begin. It's time for an execution. I give him his last rites. I make the sign of the cross, say a little prayer for him, and take aim. I look through the scope and line up the sights right with his head. Take a deep breath. Pull the trigger.
PFFT! SCRREEEEEEEE!
Dang. I must have missed. But he's screeching like he got hurt? I don't get it. I aim again.
PFFT! SCREEEEE!
Dangit, I hate that sound. I'm not having fun. I feel like I'm torturing the poor guy. Maybe these pellets aren't big enough. Maybe they are ricocheting right off his head? Maybe the thing isn't loaded? There's not a scratch on him. Sigh. I'll try one last time. Line up the sights. Take a breath. Pull the trigger.
Got him. But not where I wanted. I should have realized at that close range, the scope's sights would be a little higher than where he would actually get shot. This time, though I aimed for his head, I see an entry wound in his side. Thick blood is oozing out, he's struggling a little bit. Now that I know to aim a little higher, I consider shooting him in the head, and ending his misery. But his thrashing is slowing down. His head falls to the side. His little feet and toes are wriggling, but not as much as before. I examine the wound and determine I probably punctured both lungs with that shot. I may have even gotten close to his heart. After a minute, his feet stop moving, and I am completely sure he is no longer breathing.
I do the sign of the cross once more, and contemplate what to do with the corpse. Take him off the glue and toss him in the woods? Nah. Bury him? I don't want the dogs digging him up in the spring, and there's no good soil nearby. No, I get a trash bag, slip him and the traps into it, tie a knot, and dump him in the trash can. Adios, little buddy. You put up a good fight.
When I get back into the basement, I notice the trap that was set in the far far corner of the crawlspace is missing. Crap. I bet a rat got caught, struggled, and tipped the thing over, so he fell back into the corner that is full of wood, molding, and other stacked up junk. I walk around with a big spotlight, and bang on the heater, talking all the while, but I hear no screeching. I hear no struggling. Perhaps he's dead?
I don't know. All I know, is I don't want to go back there looking for it, only to have the Big Daddy Demon Rat jump on me from above in the crawlspace. So, I'm biding my time. I just hope shooting the rat wasn't bad karma. I've got this feeling the other rats have it in for me now. I better watch my back...
--Cbake
posted by Cbake at 3:51 PM
7 Comments:
YoU wilL dYEE
DeMON rAt
Mr. Baker, give 'em HELL! What was it in Patton? Something like:
'Men, all this stuff you've heard about Cbake not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of horse dung. Cbakes, traditionally, love to fight. All real Cbakes love the sting of battle.
Now, some of you Cbakes, I know, are wondering whether or not you'll chicken-out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you will all do your duty. The Rats are the enemy. Wade into them. Spill their blood. Shoot them in the belly.'
Yeah, that was it. And as for killing them being bad for your karma, well, look at it this way: if you stumbled into a bear's cave, do you think mama bear would Have a Heart®? Hell no! And you give them a proper execution as well. You, sir, are a fine soldier.
Oh, I will be proud to follow you wonderful Cbakes
into battle anytime,
anywhere.
That's all.
Dave
Some assorted movie quotes recast with cbake, demon rat and rat #3.
1.Rat #3: Hello. My name is Inigo Ratoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.
2. Demon Rat: He was on the ground before we heard the shot. (points to the porch) That's where i'd be. Watch out fellas this snipers got talent.
3. Cbake: The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.
4. Rat #3 : Do you expect me to talk?
Cbake: No Mr. Rat, I expect you to DIE!!!!!
5. Cbake: Those of you lucky enough to have your lives take them with you. However, leave the limbs you've lost. They belong to me now.
All good soldiers have tender hearts too, so do not be dismayed by your not enjoying the kill.(would have been more fun if you could have shot it while it was running-remember in The Jungle Book when Shere Khan wanted Mowgli to run before he killed him because it's the chase that is fun). To encourage you along you must know that after all the invaders have been executed, you still have a basement full of Demon Rat turds and urine and Hantavirus waiting for you! Feel the anger building up in you? Even after the battle, the war is not over since everything you touch could have excrement all over it (very deadly), Ultimately killing you TOO!!! i'd hate to see you go out this way. Think of the newspaper headlines!! "Young Man Dead From Excrement Ingestion!" Remember nature Chris. It wants to win at all cost. It wants to execute you too, and can do that even after It's death. Awesome, amazing nature! If you were in the sea the creatures would eat you. If you are in your home, the termites would destroy it. If walking the land, nature is either stalking you or running away from you- but even in an accidental encounter, It will fight bravely with all God gave It.
*do not be dismayed by your good soldiers heart!
*remember what you are fighting for...your life! *don't forget to buy a case of disinfectant to wipe down everything that comes out of that basement before moving it to the new house. Demon Rat's poison would follow you and try to kill the young in the new house. (you know how often children touch things and then put their fingers in their mouth?)
*Damn right Demon Rat and friends are watching and waiting for you too, but they know that even after they die they have left thier bombs all over the place, so believe me,** they die with a smile on their face!
*THESE ARE THE COLD HARD FACTS.
*It is my respect, awe and love of nature that directs me to think in this way. I believe in live and let live- but when an encounter happens, remember YOU are now It's enemy.
from the nurse
Cbake ... you have too much time on your hands! Try applying to the newspaper. You are a great writer... USE IT!
Who said that? And which paper would hire me? I talk about beating people up and shooting rats. Pulitzer Prize material, I tells ya!
THE PAPER PEOPLE ARE NOT GOING TO CALL YOU AND SAY YOU ARE FOR HIRE!
GET YOUR STUFF TOGETHER, DROP IT OFF WITH YOUR RESUME AND SOME IDEA LIKE.... "SEX IN THE SUBURBS, a guys perspective.".YEH, that's it! charlotte needs a young hottie 22 year old guy wriiting a daily column about unemploment and singleness in the queen city. great idea. you have to market your self. convince people they NEED this to improve newspaper sales.
YOU MUST KNOCK ON THIER DOOR.
THESE ARE THE COLD HARD FACTS.
GET GOING.
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