A wasted day with no sightings of El Diablo, but whenever I leave the area I can hear him exploring, taunting me with his scratching and foraging. No more Mr. Nice guy. I have prepared a custom concoction by soaking wall nuts in mixture of everything in the garden shed that had a “danger”, “poison,” “hazardous,” or “radio active” warning label. The trap has been set. Adios El Diablo.
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Stephen R. Drage
