Them treerats run after each other across my AC unit. Sounds loud enough to wake the dead and I'm not a person who startles well. Have airgun have scope, now I think I'll start by saying "Here lil treerat, come to Papa..."
I learned both the US southern style of cooking treerat but while living in Paris lerned the Alsance and Slovak methods. I guess Chefs hate treerats but hate to waste good meat.
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