Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a ratcatcher in Pinxton ain’t for the faint-hearted. Woke up this mornin’ to the sound of my neighbor’s dog yappin’ like it was auditionin’ for a role in a horror flick. Seriously, it was like a scene from a bad movie. Anyway, I rolled outta bed, grabbed my trusty rat trap, and headed out.
First stop? The back alleys off of Nottingham Road. You know, the ones that smell like a mix of fish and regret? Yeah, those. I’m walkin’ down the alley, mindin’ my own business, when I spot a rat the size of a small dog. I swear, it looked at me like, “What you gonna do, mate?” I nearly dropped my trap! I mean, come on, I’m not ready for a rat showdown.
So, I’m chasin’ this beast down the alley, and I’m thinkin’, “This is it. This is how I go out.” But then, outta nowhere, it darts into a hole in the wall of some old shop on Market Street. I’m like, “Great, now I gotta deal with a rat that’s basically a ninja.”
After that little adventure, I head over to the Pinxton Park. Lovely place, really. Kids runnin’ around, people walkin’ their dogs, and me, the ratcatcher, lookin’ like a weirdo with a trap in hand. I sit on a bench for a sec, just to catch my breath. And then, I see it. A family havin’ a picnic. They’ve got sandwiches, crisps, the whole shebang. And I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, “Man, I could really go for a cheese sarnie right now.”
But no time for snacks! I get a call from Mrs. Thompson on Church Street. She’s freakin’ out about some rats in her garden. I rush over, dodgin’ kids on bikes and old folks walkin’ their poodles. When I get there, she’s standin’ on her porch, lookin’ like she’s seen a ghost. “They’re in my flower beds!” she yells.
I’m like, “Alright, calm down, Mrs. T. I got this.” I head into her garden, and what do I find? A whole family of rats havin’ a party among her prized petunias. I mean, who knew rats were such garden enthusiasts? I set my traps, and while I’m waitin’, I can’t help but think about how ridiculous this whole thing is.
Then, outta nowhere, I hear a loud crash. I turn around, and it’s a bloody wheelie bin toppled over. I’m thinkin’, “Great, now I gotta deal with bin drama too.” Turns out, it was just some kids messin’ around. I give ‘em a look, and they scatter like cockroaches.
Finally, I catch a couple of those furry little devils. I’m feelin’ like a hero, right? But then, I hear a commotion down the street. It’s the local pub, The Pinxton Inn. Apparently, they’re havin’ a karaoke night. I’m like, “Oh no, not this again.” Last time, I heard someone butcher “Wonderwall” so bad, I thought the rats would run for the hills.
But I can’t resist. I wander over, and what do I see? A bunch of locals belting out tunes, and I’m thinkin’, “This is the real Pinxton.” I grab a pint, and for a moment, I forget about the rats. Just me, the music, and the good vibes.
As the night rolls on, I’m laughin’ and joinin’ in. I even attempt a rendition of “Livin’ on a Prayer.” Spoiler alert: it was terrible. But hey, the crowd loved it!
By the time I head home, I’m exhausted but happy. I think about the day—chasin’ rats, dealin’ with Mrs. Thompson, and belting out tunes at the pub. Pinxton, you crazy little town, you’ve got my heart.
So, yeah, that was my day. Just another wild ride as a ratcatcher in Pinxton. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings. Hopefully, fewer ninja rats and more karaoke!