Unfortunately for the rat, yes. It all started yesterday evening after dinner. I hear a rustling in the kitchen, so I quickly grab my "torch," (the English word for a flashlight), climb up on the counter, and peer behind the china cabinet. That's the usual place they hide, and sure enough, the one I speared last time must have left an unlucky cousin behind. This one, unlike most others I've exterminated, is quite a bit smaller and a little skiddish. Usually, they are fat and easy to catch once you trap them in a corner. This time, the rat is smaller, and seems to jump at every little noise, scurrying around in response to my every movement.
After 10 minutes of unsuccessfully cornering him, I gave up. I couldn't hear him anymore, and figured he had escaped back outside. I heard him again around 9:30pm clanking around in the kitchen and decided to give it another go with Joy. Usually we make a pretty good team, but tonight things just aren't clicking, so we head to bed, but not before re-baiting the trap with some peanut butter.
At 11:30pm, I awake to very loud chewing on wood, and rip the covers off, ready to throw the dog over the wall, but as I make my way out to the living room, I realize the sound is coming from inside the house. I stop; I listen, but nothing. I climb up on the counter and check behind the cabinet again--still nothing. I'm so disgusted, I don't feel good, and I just want to get a good night's sleep. Frustrated, I trudge back to bed, praying along the way for the swift death of all rats worldwide.
I have a hard time falling back asleep, and after what seems like minutes, I wake with a start and grab my flashlight, heart pounding in my throat. Someone's breaking into my house. Sliding out of bed, I search the bedroom for some kind of weapon to defend myself. But, after the sleepy fog lifts, I notice the sound seems to be coming from the kitchen again. I switch gears, grab my spear and head to the kitchen again. But the sound isn't coming from the usual places. Where could it be?
Tip toeing into the living room, I try my best to locate where this clanking and chewing noise is coming from. Then, I hear him. He's in the office room. I've done this a few times before, and I quickly gather a few things to barricade the door so he can't escape. I shove a few books underneath the door, open it with a start, and slam it shut. It's just me and the rat now.
I look behind the bookshelves, listen, and shine my flashlight in all the dark corners, but can't find anything. So, as with fishing, I wait patiently, but I don't have to wait long. I hear scratching and scurrying coming from behind the big bookshelf, and suddenly I'm staring face to face with my arch enemy. I just stare right back and mutter, "Prepare to meet your Maker!"
With that, he literally jumps off the top of the bookshelf straight at my head. I scream like a little girl, but quickly regain my composure, hoping Joy didn't hear me. What time is it anyway?!? Tracing him across the room, I trap him in the corner and take a quick shot, but miss. The little coward runs straight into my desk. I rip the drawers out from bottom to top, and as I do, I realize where all the chewing sounds have been coming from. This little turd has eaten a hole in every single one of my drawers, pooping all over my MAF stationery, and everything stinks like rat pee. Now it's on!
Stabbing blindly into the desk, I flush him out and chase him across the room, taking shots all along the way. He hides, like the coward he is, behind the bookshelf next to the desk, so I hop up on top of the desk, plastering my head against the wall...DEATH from above! I take my time with this shot and stab hard; he squeals and runs across the middle of the floor, leaving me with a tuft of hair--missed again! I react quickly, leaping from the desk, spear in both hands, like some kind of gladiator. I hit the floor hard, but the rat proves too fast once again, running full steam into the other corner again. Only this time, I see the CAT-5 cable for our internet moving back and forth. It runs up to the ceiling, going through a small hole up to the antenna on the roof.
I stare in utter disbelief, mouth gaping, as the rat makes a break for the attic, climbing all the way up the cable to the hole. I notice he is bleeding a little bit, must have nicked him that other time. He tries his best to squeeze through, but can't quite make it. And, not wanting to chop my cable in half, I flip the spear over and use the butt end like a baseball bat, swinging hard and shooting him right off the cable and slamming into the wall with a thud and a squeak.
After chasing him around the room several more times, I can tell now that he's getting tired. But I am too. I can't quite see straight, but I trap him in the corner again, take my time, and slam the spear right in his side. It doesn't take long, and I carry him outside triumphantly, skewered on my trusty spear like a rat-kabab. I delight in launching him as far down the street as I can, clean up the mess, and trudge to bed for the second time tonight. I crawl under the covers and hit the light on my alarm clock...4:11am!! Oh man, I have 21 minutes before the Muslim call to prayer, but at least my house is rat free for the rest of the night. I wonder what my neighbors think of me?
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