Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Elves And Fairies and VICIOUS ATTACK RODENTS, pt 3

Less than ten hours from the time I left my very succinct message for my landlord, the message where I threatened to catch one of my new rodent friends and leave it’s crucified remains nailed to the front of his business, I got a call from Paul the Rat Killer. He doesn’t actually go by that Rat Killer moniker but I figure that’s what he does and all, he kills rats, and trying to be all inoffensive about it just grates my nerves a little. To say you’re with Arkansas Pest Control is very misleading because I consider my neighbor’s children to be pests and if you caught me in the right mood I might contact you for a little pest removal of the human (under eight) variety so just to be as clear as possible I think it’s best to remove any ambiguity found in the title of your business. If you were a hooker you wouldn’t tell your friend in the Lexus that you work for the Anonymous Gratification Company, you’d tell him that you’ll love him long time for five dollar. Very simple concept plus you know you’re reaching the right customer base.

Paul the Rat Killer droned on and on for quite some time, rambling about how he was sorry he didn’t make it in my apartment when he was there earlier in the week but the landlord didn’t have a key to my apartment. I’d call his bluff here but I know for a fact he was in every single other apartment and I know this because he walked in on my upstairs neighbor while she was in the shower, much to her utter dismay. I also have little to no faith in my management company thanks to the biannual festivities involving me, no air conditioning and lots of angry sweat. So I took him at his word and asked when he was available to come by, anxious as I was to watch a herd of rodents die a miserable, convulsing, foaming death.

He quickly informed me he didn’t work weekends but this coming Tuesday was free. I’m not one to split hairs with the individual involved in my Rat Killing so I told him I’d meet him at my place ‘round 6pm and drinks were on me. He didn’t really get my joke, which to be honest wasn’t so much a joke as it was a singing homage to my inability to function in uncomfortable situations. I mean, the guy had just spent nearly half my lunch break talking about stuffing steel wool in the rat holes so they’d gnaw on it and then bleed to death internally which was a very painful process but not to feel sorry for the buggers ‘cause they breed like crazy anyway and the Mama Rat will just go make some more. And instead of verbally nodding and keeping my mouth shut I tried to make light of the upcoming massacre and made an attempt at a joke and all that guy did was tell me he was a Baptist and didn’t believe in the drinking. In case you’re keeping score, I listened to twenty minutes of Rat Death talk AND got shot down by a 60-year-old Baptist pest control guy. WINNER.

This afternoon I raced home after work, driving the speed limit obviously because the cops round these here parts are starting to go all CHiPS on me but not a single one of them have been swayed by low cut tops or outright begging, which I think is doing their CHiPS legacy a true disservice because Erik Estrada so would have let me off. Once home I gave my apartment the once over with some Pledge because a) it smells nice and b) I wanted nice clean print-free surfaces available for my Rat Killer Man, just in case the CSI folk needed to do a dust-down later. I wouldn’t want them to confuse the Rat Killer’s prints with my neighbors boyfriend’s prints and it’s not that I’m judging anyone, I’m just saying you got to be prepared when strange folk are coming in your house, especially ones that choose careers involving killing.

Paul the Rat Killer showed up right on time and made himself at home with his roach spray by soaking every available baseboard in the semi-clear goop. He was quite proud of the orange smell and asked me repeatedly to affirm that the roach spray was just like opening up an orange and all I could think to tell him was ‘Yeah, that sure does smell like, um, oranges’ and then ask him why he’s spraying for roaches when I’ve got a blessed colony of rodents that are right this very second spewing forth future spawn that will find the titanic-sized bag of cat food a tasty treat. He then puts his hands on his BRIGHT ASS RED SUSPENDERS and gives them one good solid pop! and chortles merrily to himself all the while I’m mentally gauging the distance between me, him and the butcher knife in the kitchen when he says:

“I’d done forgot all about them rats!”

Oh dear lord, and I’d almost forgotten why I lived in Arkansas.

So he finishes up with the roach spray because he “might as well, an’all” and then lumbers out to his pickup for a big black box of rat poison. Back inside the apartment he breaks off these big squares that remind me of those No-Bake cookies that people always try to pass off as tasty because they’ve got peanut butter in them and usually some oats and nuts and sugar, which I’m sure seem like perfectly tasty ingredients to you but I hate peanut butter, as in hate it so much I’d rather eat it, vomit it up and then snort it up my nose. I might be over exaggerating just a bit but it really doesn’t matter if I like the poison blocks or not, it matters that the Vicious Attack Rodents like it, eat it and then DIE. Preferably outside amongst a lot of nature and a really heavy wind.

After Paul the Rat Killer finished off his display-o-poison in my cabinets he tells me that he’s never had a cat go for the poison but should I notice that they’ve eaten a piece, the antidote is vitamin K. And while I’m taking a few seconds to digest this whole ‘antidote’ scenario and wondering how I’m going to know if the cats have eaten the poison he then proceeds to tell me all about the poison.

“Do you know what a coagulant is?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure I know what a coagulant is.”

“What is it?”

God, what is this, fifth grade? “A coagulant is something that aids in the clotting process.”

“Very good!” Bite me asshole. “So if you know what a coagulant is, can you guess what an anticoagulant is?” He’s serious. This is like those scenes in movies where they cut to a dream sequence where the hero gets to beat the Annoying Guy with a large bat and then cut! right back to the normal scene, Annoying Guy’s head still intact.

“It would be the opposite of ‘to clot.’”

“Very good! Now this poison is an anticoagulant. Basically, it makes the rats bleed internally until it rots out their gut and they die. Normally takes about three to seven days.”

Oh goody.

8 comments:

Carl from L.A. said...

Five dollars will buy about five minutes of love from a hooker. It'll have to be a quickie.

* * *

Aren't you glad something that you learned in fifth grade came in handy?

Texas Roxy said...

Is he trying to make up for his Arkansasian ignorance by being a self appointed know-it-all?
What an ASS!

I'd bake him some "cookies" and lock him in the closet for 3-7 days.

duckie said...

did he say how much vitamin K? And where the hell do you get vitamin K? I don't think it comes in the chewable Flinstones variety. And if you did find some vitamin K, how the hell would you get your cats to eat it? This guy left our some pretty important details if you ask me.

Drunken Chud said...

we give rat poison to old timers all the time. my gramps was on rat poison after his cancer surgery cuz he had some clots. of course it goes under the trade name of coumadin, and that shit is wicked. they couldn't get the levels right and twice he had to go in to the ER for nosebleeds that wouldn't stop. a shot of vitamin k later and away we go. fun times. ahh rat poison, it's some fucked up shit.

Barry S. said...

Five dollar will buy a lot in Phnom Penh, ahem, or so I'm told.

I had a bit of a rodent problem once, and they did practically the same thing you mentioned. They just don't croak out in the open, either, so keep an eye out.

The Happy Low Carb Taco said...

I'm pretty sure the poison he used will make the rats thirsty, and they will attempt to leave your apartment before they die.

At least, that's what *we* told people.

duckie said...

i KNOW you're not busy sleeping, so why don't you write more eh?

You realize this is all about ME right? Not you. It's all ME!

Jenni said...

I really enjoy your stories! Even if they are about disgusting rodents. I have no idea what this says about me.