They call it an escalation. I call it becoming perfect. That’s what they say don’t they? Practice makes perfect. It goes for anything, not just piano, and dance routines (I fucking hate dance routines). Where is the best place for people like us to practice our craft? A city. Not a little town; unless you are passing through; but a huge, dirty city. Why? That’s where all the rats are.
There are many different types of rats for you to experiment on. Whore rats, junkie rats, homeless rats, runway rats, the list goes on and on. There is one thing that you must keep in mind though. There are others out there hunting rats too, and sometimes those motherfuckers are crazier than you could ever hope to be. You leave those bitches alone. Take your time, be analytical, the thrill will come later. Use your brain and set the best trap you can. Then once you have your rat, do what ever the fuck you want.
The first one won’t go smoothly, something always goes wrong. Be prepared for this and do not be disappointed in yourself. Just move onto the next. The goal for all this practice is to move onto something other than rats. Eventually you can move onto mice. Not just any mice, but soft, just weened off their Mamma’s tit mice. Not old enough to breed, but old enough to know what the fuck is going on and recognize pain, and react accordingly.
I wish you happy hunting and may all your rat traps spring at the right moment.
Indigo
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