TIDBITS
... of humorous stories

"Willard Meets Rambo"

  It was all about survival!

It was 1 am when the nightmare began. I was awakened by a very loud scratching.  At first I thought it was a cat at my door but once I turned on the lights, it was apparent from where the noise originated. It was an incredible sight.

Something big was inside the wall. As it moved it crumpled the plaster betraying its' path. I immediately called the building's maintenance department but no one answered. I was on my own.

I cut a hole in the closet wall to get a look at my nemesis.

This was no Mickey Mouse. It was a rat the size of a Hyundai. As it turned towards the light I could see it had something in its' teeth. It looked like a piece of spinach but on closer examination it turned out to be the building's rottweiler security dog.

I called security and they promised to be at my door within three minutes. My worries would soon be over.

Because my building is in a high risk neighborhood the apartment house law enforcers are well trained, well equipped, and I might add, quite ruthless. They wear body armor, carry pepper spray, night sticks, and oozies.

I waited and waited for the security swat team and finally redialed. No one answered. Maybe they got Willard and were disposing of his smelly corpse.

I peeked through the hole and saw the beast smiling, sporting the red and white beret of what was supposed to be my rescue team.

What to do? I looked under my sink and there were 12 containers of deadly rat poison. This rodent picked the wrong guy to mess with.

I quickly wrapped all of them in Italian cured roast beef coupled with a slice of aged swiss cheese and a little Grey Poupon. I threw it at my hungry assailant. He swallowed it in one gulp and surprisingly had a content look on his face.

I guess I dozed off.

When I woke, the sun was shinning and the hairy eating machine was gone. But something was different. There was a very loud silence.

I looked into the usual busy courtyard and it was empty. I ran down the stairs and hailed a police car. After they searched the building I was arraigned on thirty-two counts of murder. It seems I was the only resident to survive the mighty rat.

Ever the optimist, and never one for being at a loss of words, I decided to represent myself in court.

Once on the witness stand I mesmerized the 12-person panel with a nine and one half hour extremely detailed version of the dire events. As I was concluding there was a dead calm in the court room coupled with a little snoring.

The gavel went down and the Judge read the verdict "Not Guilty". I jumped to my feet profusely thanking my supporters as well as my absent mother and father.

I was told to sit down until he finished reading the jury's findings, "Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity".

That evening, as the correctional guards strapped me into bed, I smiled knowing I was the only survivor of a hideous massacre, and would one day prove my innocence.

As sleep entered my head I could hear a fellow inmate down the hall scream "WHAT'S THAT SCRATCHING"?

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