Tell us please what can it be
That inspired this absurdity
Is it because you lived under a tree
That they call you the Riverats?
Oh no, nothing as easy as that.
In the midst of a Toga bash
Gail recounted, "It was sex for trash"
And to herself, she amusingly laughed.
So from her recollection of that;
I present now the story of the Rat:
A dirty old sweaty old gross old man
Offered to service her garbage cans
In exchange for servicing him
He was serious, it was not a whim.
I would have liked to have seen her face
As she kindly put him in his place.
Behind the door she nervously hid
Every time she heard the clanging of the lids.
When they moved he was still the trash man
In spite of that? We don't understand!
To a new location, you let him follow?
"That was before I learned to say No", she chortled.
Perhaps some one took him up on the deal
Maybe he died or had some appeal.
At any rate, he no longer showed
The unpicked trash, well it growed and growed.
It smelled and it rotted, it became
Feeding grounds for rodent game.
Gail told Tucker "Something must be done".
The rats had made the garage their home.
They made her mad, they made her crazy
So Tucker went off to the library.
He got some books on hide tanning
Went to Neal's Hardware for what he was planning.
He placed rat traps in the rat paradise
Killed 'em dead and looked in their eyes
Their heads pointed up, their pointy teeth showed
That inspired his rat logo.
What do you do with a bunch of dead rats?
Don't know about you, but Tucker made a hat.
He sported it proudly, but failed to consider that
Sweat made his rat hat smell just like a rat.
In the meantime, the carcasses stacked,
Gail about had a major heart attack.
When she opened the freezer, little did she know
That wrapped frozen rats look just like burritos.
She didn't scream and she didn't shout
But thought to herself "What if the neighbors find out?".
So into little circles he cut the smelly rat hat.
And made funny buttons. He was proud of that.
He didn't reap very many, a handfull or two
And handed them out to the the original crew.
Time went on, a new trash man came
Tucker killed all the rats, there was no new game
But the Winfield veterans started spreading the name
As under the tree they sat,
We know 'em as Riverats.
Now that you know the tale so gory
In all it's strangeness and glory
You would think that was the end of the story -
But you'd be wrong about that,
So I'll continue the saga of the Rat:
In secrecy, Tucker followed Paul's lead
"A 'REAL' Mascot" is what they'd need.
They were determined, they were sure
So they rendezvoused at the Snake Food Store.
They examined every rat it seemed
When they found him they fondly beamed,
For he had the biggest balls that anyone had ever seen.
They were somewhat disappointed when they got the news
The taxidermist must not have been amused
The attributes for which the rat was best suited
Were missing -- poor "River" -- he had been neutered.
No one would ever know, well not 'til today,
The rat got stuffed and started on his way.
Tucker and Paul had a covert pact:
No one must know about the rat
It was a matter of honor not to tell
Sworn to secrecy, Paul told Gail.
Paul, a box, meticulously prepared
For it would be the rat's permanent lair
Never let it be said they couldn't go too far
"River", the rat, had his own guitar.
Winfield began with no rat in sight
Until one dark and pageant less night
When the box appeared in the grass 'neath the tree
With a flashlight beacon for all to see.
There in it's weathered, worn wooden shrine
It must have looked, somehow, divine.
Folks came round and fell to their knees
Left little gifts for the rat below the tree.
It was rather odd, no one knew
What was the rat, let alone who
Winfield waned, they packed under the stars
Then, nonchalantly, they told Gail, "It's yours".
She tried to be flattered, tried to appreciate
Their labors and effort, but it was too late
There had been no presentation, no ceremony
They just handed her the rat right there under the tree.
Trying to make from lemons, lemonade
At New Years eve, a costume Gail made
With a little tiny horn and a little party hat
"River", became Happy New Year's Rat.
From there, he dressed for many occasions
He's been St. Pat, he's been Asian
He's worn a toga, a robe for K.C.'s graduation
And so many more things besides that
He's on Ratwell's Top 10 List of "Best Dressed Dead Rats".
So goes the story, I swear it's true
The rat went to Tucker - now what will he do?
Will he pick me or will he pick you
To be the next "Keeper of the Rat"?
Only Greg Tucker knows that.
I think "River" should stay where he's at.