dave and i stayed up from 12:30 to 1:15 in the morning. we both sat propped up against the far wall of the hallway. he with his blowgun resting on a chair and phone book. me with the pellet rifle on my knee. one hour and forty-five minutes. all we saw was a little 2-inch brown mouse. actually i didn't even see it, dave did. we know, however, that there is a more heinous culprit because he left some rather large fecal deposits on the floor. we have two options left...
1) steve gets that last kind of trap sherzinger can offer, which is some kind of metal box or something.
2) night watch. we go in shifts and whether it's at 1 or 4 in the morning, somone nails this sucker.
last night the troops were rallied. today we hang our heads in shame and regret. foiled again by the varmint. maybe we were too sure of ourselves. too cocky. he's a smart little jerk. but he is a rat. and he will die.
3 comments:
die! die! die! yes....die! blowgun death. i vote blowgun death! i think i might be a litte too excited by this.....
isn't it funny, the whole anti-franciscan sentiment? oh well, we've tried just about eveything. we have a metal-wire box trap now. we'll see...it didn't do the trick last night. maybe we should preach to the rat and then he'll get saved and then he'll be our household pet-friend...nah...
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