So those who know me in real life know that I'm a strict follower of the Greek god Poseidon. I know the hipsters call him Neptune, and that's fine for them, but I'm old school. I've held this strong belief for as long as I can remember. Or maybe it was since I saw the movie Ben. I'm not sure if it was the rats (it was the rats) or Michael Jackson (it was the rats) or just the fact it was a horror movie and I was little (it really was the rats), but I've had a strong dislike of rats ever since. And rats can't swim. Hence the Greek god of the sea! It makes perfect sense.
Sea flesh and blood! Probably.
This year I decided to take things a step further. I saw a mouse in my garage before winter, and everyone knows that mice turn into rats once they eat after midnight, so I took action. I made a big elaborate sacrifice to Poseidon, praying to him that he would smite all those rats that would dare infringe upon my earthly domain.
So that's done, and my house is safe from rats for another year. Now it's time to mow the lawn! Hey, what's this in the crawlspace? That's odd.
Success! Thanks Poseidon! Hrm. Wait a minute...
Poseidon. You son of a ...