Rats!

Recently my folks found a large number of droppings in their basement. Turned out they had a rat infestation. Great. The guy from the city came round and assured them that 'rats are everywhere in Victoria.' Also good news. The man was well-built, with close-cropped hair, and a couple of scars on his legs and arms. His vehicle was unmarked. He took a look at the droppings, and declared that these were Norwegian Rats, not the smaller Tree Rats. Turns out these Scandinavian rodents can grow up to 30 cm (not including the tail). Super. By the way, they are also, after humans, the most widespread animal on earth. Breeding machines. We went (together, armed) to clean up the droppings, but the rat man told us not to touch them. 'Rats use droppings to communicate to each other. If you move them around, they'll sense trouble and won't go for the traps.' Huh? You're telling me we have enormous brown rats squatting in the basement, and they had developed an orthographic system using their feces? I looked more closely at the arrangements of the droppings. Sure enough, they said (crudely but legibly):

We fuck you.

We'll see who fucks who, I muttered to myself as we strategically placed the peanut butter traps around the walls. Funny though, as I closed the door, I could have sworn I heard a hissing, guttural voice say: 'Asshole.' Must have just been my imagination...