A great aunt had 500 chickens and about 10,000 rats on the place. She, my wife, and little boy went out to gather eggs. A huge rat stood up and hissed at them. They both beat it back into the house.
I loaded up around 100 38s with #9 shot and a friend and I went shooting. We shot every damn round I had, ran back to the house and loaded up 100 more and went back to work. We must have killed at least 80 rats. We walked into a barn and I backed out immediately. There must have been 50 rats up on the trusses squealing at us.
Mark came out, not as spooked as I was, but spooked. He walked around the side of the barn and came back running at top speed. "That's the biggest f*cking rat I ever saw!" Scared spitless!
We both walked around the side of the barn and jumped when we saw it in the flashlight. It was a big possum eating the dead rats we had shot.
We calmed down and kept shooting. I picked up one pipe in a pile in the yard, dropped it, and about 20 rats came running out.
We had a blast shooting them with S&W revolvers.
Rat killin' can be a blast!
On the Bilstein Children's Center at OU when it was under construction, we had a room in the basement where we kept materials and tools. One of the guys had a sandwich in his insulated overalls and a rat got it. Chewed a hug hole in his brand new Carharts. We had a rat killin' of fantastic proportions after that. We plugged every hole, every body got a pipe or hickey in their hands, and started moving stuff. About 7 or 8 of us. That rat came out of a box, damn near as big as a small kitten, and took off. The pipes and hickeys were being swung faster and more times than a major league batting practice. That rat was fast. One guy finally hit the damn thing and killed it.
The funniest thing about it is someone put it in the plumbers gang box when nobody was looking.