I don't care how damn cute and little they may be out of doors, these bitches are scary when they're scurrying unexpectedly over your toes as you stand in your kitchen.I had to call in the professionals for this job. I killed one all by myself by trapping it in the heating duct and waiting for it to die. Oh, the stank.
But two makes a pattern in my book, so the traps are set. The exterminator promised I wouldn't hear the scream, but if I go check the traps, I might see a "little butt hanging out."
No, thanks.
I'm worried about my karma. How do I explain to the Big Dog upstairs that I wouldn't have to kill these striped rats if they kept the hell out of my house? What kind of penance must I do to clear my soul? Clean slate. I need a clean slate.
Any ideas?
