Redneck Rambo the Mighty Rat Killer

My little town is nestled in a valley, right on the New River. We have some of the prettiest foliage, the best fishing spots, white water rafting company, and it is a historic town. We also have river rats.

Now most of the time, these river rats aren't a problem, but .. about 10 years ago a former friend of mine had just moved into a house and she was overrun with them. Every time I went to visit her, we were constantly hearing and/or seeing them run across the hardwood floors. No matter what she did, nothing seemed to work to keep them out.

She and her husband slowly started getting all of the holes plugged up with that insulation that you just kinda shoot into the holes to seal them up and though that slowed the rats down some, they were still getting in here and there. One night, while sleeping with her daughter, she woke up to see 1 of the little buggers sitting on the end of the bed staring at her. She vowed then that they were leaving, no matter what she had to do to get rid of them.

I went over to visit several days a week and one day we were hanging out in the living room, watching TV and chatting it up. Her 3 year old daughter was sitting in the floor playing and all of a sudden we heard the unmistakable clicking of little rat claws scurrying across the dining room floor.

Both of us jumped up, I grabbed the baby and threw her onto the couch and we looked around for something to arm ourselves with. We finally found our weapons and made our way into the kitchen, where it had gone behind the dryer.

We were on a mission .. kill the rat. So, we stormed the kitchen, humming the mission impossible theme .. She was armed with a size 13 shoe that belonged to her husband and a mop, I had the other shoe and the dustbuster. We were ready for action. The baby was looking at us like we'd lost our minds.

We positioned ourselves strategically around the dryer, 1 of us on each side of it. She'd poke around back there with the mop and when it ran out, I tried to club it with the shoe, but missed and it ran back under the dryer. Did I mention that this thing was about as big as a small dog? It was freakin huge, beady eyes and sharp lookin teeth .. .and huge, did I mention that? HUGE.

So anyway, it got away from me, maybe because I squealed when it ran out and was trying to hit it without getting too close, but that's beside the point. It was then my turn, I stuck the dustbuster back behind the dryer and turned it on .. banging it against the back of the machine to make more noise. Out he popped, she screamed and tried to hit it, and it ran back. We figured we weren't gonna hit it but we probably had a good chance of giving it a heart attack. We never did catch the stupid thing 'cause the newspaper guy came up to the door, which was in plain view of our campsite around the dryer. He rang the bell, we both screamed and turned around, wielding our weapons and said .. WHAT?!?!?

He left without a word and we couldnt' find the rat after that.

Well, fast forward now to about a week later.

Once again we're watching TV, chatting, having a good time visiting and ... *click click click click* we hear a rat. My friend's husband has had enough, they've filled all the holes, they've use the rat poison, they've had psycho rat mercenaries come in .. and obviously after all that, this 1 rat was trapped in the house and couldn't figure out how to leave. He jumped up off the couch and headed up the stairs. She and I just looked at each other, wondering what he was doing or rather, wondering if we WANTED to know what he was doing.

He comes back down ... in camoflage pants, shirtless, with his slide action shotgun. She and I look at each other again, roll our eyes, shrug, and get up to go find the stinking rat and try to avoid the inevitable carnage now that he's in Rambo-mode.

The rat is in the dining room turned play room, behind a few toy boxes.

Rambo has the shotgun pointed at one of the boxes and says ..

"KayKay, go over there and move that box .. real quick .. 'cause I'm gonna shoot it"

I looked at him incredulously, a brow arced "You've gotta be kidding me. How about this, ... YOU move the box -real quick- and I'LL shoot it. I'm a better shot than you anyway" and I reached for the gun.

he smirked, "no, I don't want to get shot, I know what you'd aim at if I went over there ..... hands off the shotgun, go move the dang box."

I trusted him with that gun about as much as he trusted me ... so I punched him in the arm :)

So, after Bee and I had wrestled the gun away from Rambo, we were moving the boxes, trying to box him (the rat, not Rambo .. though that wouldn't have been a bad idea. hindsight is 20/20) into the corner so when the box that he was hiding behind was moved, he'd be a sitting duck. Great plan .. .but it didn't work ... He was scrambling back and forth all over the place, trying to hide .. Rambo, who had gotten his shotgun back while we were busy, was shooting holes in the wall trying to hit him .. and we finally decided that we needed a new plan.

We retired to the living room to regroup .. Bee and I did, that is. Rambo stayed in the rat room doing Rambo-ish things which we felt it was best to ignore and not encourage. Bee decided to vacuum the throw rugs while we tried to figure out something else, I hung out on the couch, devising a plan. Rambo was posturing and doing the Rambo pose, working the slide action on the rifle ....

***KABLAM!***

Rambo has a wided eyed look, mouth hanging open. Bee looked confused 'cause she wasn't sure what she'd just heard over the vacuum cleaner, the rat was squealing crazily, and from my position, lying on the couch, I fell into the floor because I was laughing my butt off... as little pieces of the ceiling rained down on Rambo's head. There was still a bullet in the chamber and Redneck Rambo the mighty rat killer had just blown a hole in the ceiling and the tiles out of the upstairs bathroom floor.

You'll be happy to know that the rat was finally disposed of. He died of natural causes, as far as we could tell ... a heart attack from being shot at and chased for hours while pinned in the corner.