Like a scene from an Alfred Hitchcock movie I pushed the door open ever so slowly with the only body part sticking out was my eye. The kitchen was clean and orderly with nothing out of place and no hairy beast pounced out of nowhere to confirm my worst fears. Tim was standing at the back door and I could hear the little old lady now peppering him with endless questions and comments. “What’s he doing in there? Your office said you’d get rid of this thing! When you gonna put some traps out?” Tim never flinched. Semi relieved because I had not seen anything face to face in this small but very bright and light colored kitchen, I took a few quick steps toward the back door. Just then a movement caught my eye and I froze with my hand on the knob. There in the corner behind the only dark appliance (coffee maker) in the kitchen was a pretty good sized norway rat. Both of us were motionless hoping neither one of us saw anything even though our eyes fixated on each other. It took a few minutes and the rat sort of settled back in the shadow of the brewer and thats when I felt I could now open the door.
This is the continuation of the story Who Got Stuck With This Rat? One of the many tales of my career and one where I asked you the reader to give me your version of of what the conclusion would be. Follow the link above to see how the story began and maybe add your ending as well before you see if Tim & I ever bagged this greasy little rat. (Erica had a great one)
To Tim’s credit he hadn’t moved a muscle and was still calmly replying “yes ma-am, no ma-am” to her non stop questions. Even though he wasn’t treating anything Tim was still just as important by running interference with my would be attacker leaving me free to do the job. Opening the door revealed another key reason Tim hadn’t moved or turned to look inside to see what I was doing. He was holding a spear behind his back and he wiggled his hand back and forth so as to show me but not our client who had him pinned like a boxer up against the ropes with her lethal barrage. I took the weapon and closed the door and found that this spear actually unfolded to a 9 foot long instrument of death. I don’t know why I didn’t insist on some snap traps and then just tried to chase the rat til he ran into one of them but the spear was in my hand and like an ancient warrior going up against a loathsome beast I poised my weapon and prepared to strike.
By now Tim turned his back to the lady and she wasn’t very happy about it. His face was pressed up to the window and he was mouthing and pointing directions. I guess he had enough of the old gal and I heard him say in authoritative tone “Stand back- he may have to swing the door open in a hurry to throw out this huge hairy beast!” It must have scared her because things got real quiet and now it was just me, the rat and a nine foot spear. This harpoon was so long and I had only a foot or so of room to maneuver without hitting the wall behind me. My heart was pounding in my throat and my hands were shaking as I put the lethal shank within 6 inches of this greasy rat with beady eyes. Almost as if he could feel the tension through the end of the spear the rat shifted to the other side of the coffee maker. All the while Tim was peering in giving out instructions & I was sweating bullets face to face with a rodent armed only with an ancient spear that was longer than the room. To match his move I had to pull back my weapon to avoid the coffee pot and tried to quickly and smoothly line up for my shot. The rat wanted none of it and with my quick jolt he bolted towards the end of the counter and most likely his escape when Tim suddenly banged hard on the door. This paralyzed the rat into a moment of confusion and that was all I needed to drive my primeval tool of warfare into its slimy greasy body.
It took a minute for things to settle in for me but Tim was all excited about the kill. I was amazed how easily the sharp spear pierced the rats body and went right through and then THUD–I quickly looked at the wall to see if the stab caused any damage and thankfully there was none. I folded the spear up a bit just so I could get out the back door. The impaled rat was lifeless on the sharp point as I emerged from the back door a victorious conquerer. The commotion had even attracted some on lookers from across the alley and they gasped as I held up my kill like a proud hunters trophy. Tim was delighted to say the least that one of his ghoulish pest control tools actually came in handy and perhaps he went a bit overboard with our client almost taunting her how we got the job done.
Who Is The Rat Now?
You would think most people would have been extremely thankful that not only did we come out the same day they called but also that we actually killed the rat and removed it from their property so they’d have no more worries. Our little tornado however didn’t see things quite this way and suddenly ratcheted back up the tone and verbal attacks. She claimed that since we promised traps, baits, glueboards and a return service that she was NOT GOING TO PAY for something she didn’t get. Both Tim and I were taken aback and even though we had the dead rat on the end of the spear we could not convince her she got her moneys worth. We asked if we could use he phone to call the office to help straighten this out but we weren’t allowed back inside. Tim and I decided to leave. The story went ‘viral’ (by beeper I guess) throughout the company and we were for a time legendary. That was all fine and dandy until the next commission check came out and our little pittance for this heroic deed was never included. The old gal never did pay and I guess in the end we were really dealing with two rats in this ordeal and the furry little one was not the only thing to get stuck that day.