There's Gonna Be a Dead Pig.

Charlotte Cavatica: Templeton, haven't you ever heard that good things come to those who wait?

Templeton: No. Good things come to those who find it and shove it in their mouth!

Note: Not necessarily, Templeton. Not necessarily.

There's going to be a dead pig. Tonight. A casualty of war, unfortunately.

My war, yes.

And I will win. It's just a matter of time and the clock is ticking. Because, you see, there is a rat in my garage. Oh, I'm not talking about a hypothetical rat, such as my sniper-neighbor Larry sneaking in and borrowing my hedge trimmer. And I'm not talking about Rob, the Socialite Sheriff across the street who occasionally finds himself on car-alarm-turning-off duty when the Aging SUV's alarm goes off unexpectedly.

Note: Unexpectedly is an understatement because the darn thing doesn't have an alarm. Go figure.

I'm talking real, live rat. But not for long.

My very own Templeton has been chowing down on the rat poison. He's eaten two bowlfuls already and I imagine he's invited all of his rat friends to come along for the picnic.

Note: What's the matter, Templeton? Got a bellyache?

So, unfortunately for 'Some Pig' out there in a pen hoping for a rat to save the day, the ax is going to fall. Yup. Sorry, Dude. But ...

this is War.

Heck, yes!