A Rat Story for You

As a freshman in college, I lived in the archetype (all-male) college
dorm. Striking with its Florentine towers and ivy covered walls.

Turns out that ivy was also a haven for rats. I never had a problem
with them, and only ever saw one feral on campus once, but a few of my
friends were up in arms about being repeatedly invaded by them (I have a
bit more empathy for their "situation" now than I did then).

Several complaints to the Chancellor's Office were answered in a
less-than-satisfactory manner, so they decided to take matters into
their own hands.

Somehow my pals were trapping rats live. Everytime they snagged one,
they'd put it in a large communal holding pen with food and water. Once
they got up to a couple dozen, they quit feeding them, but kept giving
them water. As you'd guess, in fairly short order, the rats began
killing, and eating, each other.

The rats were allowed to cannibalize until there were two left, at which
point the survivors were loose on the dormitory grounds. In a matter of
just a few days, the rat problem "went away."

Because, you see, once you've developed a taste for rat meat, and you
can go everywhere a they go, and you've learned how to kill them on the
hoof, well, it becomes your food of choice.