A peasant family became terribly upset when their farm was invaded with legions of rats. They tried traps and snares and all manner of poison, but nothing seemed to work. Every day there were more and more of the little pests. They ate the grain, scared the horses, and made a nuisance of themselves at every pass.
The family was so distraught that they were about abandon the property altogether. Just as they were about to leave, a cat came down the road. He was not a friendly, cuddlesome type of creature you might find in nice neighborhoods. He was dusty, flea bitten, drifter cat with a thousand yard stare in his one good eye. He chain smoked cigarettes while the farmer told him of his family's plight.
After The Cat heard the woeful tale, he brought the family together and told them to wait. Then he went inside.
At first, no one could see what was happening, but everyone could hear it. A chorus of terrible squeaks issued from within. Dishes broke and windows shattered and fearsome meowing echoed through the streets. Soon, neighbors began to arrive to find out what was going on. The blacksmith had enough nerve to peek through a window, but whatever he saw inside turned him white as a sheet. He turned away and went on about his business, never to speak of it again.
Before long, a single rat stumbled into the yard. The Cat jumped out of the building and pounced on him. There, in front of all the villagers, he scoured it most cruelly with his claws. The Cat left The Rat with just enough life in it to crawl away. Before he let it go, he whispered something into its one remaining ear.
The peasant family was disgusted, but so shocked that they raised nary a finger to stop The Cat as he soaked their home in gasoline and set it ablaze. The flames glowed long into the night. The Cat sat there and watched the fire as he had watched a hundred fires before it.
Full of tears, the farmer begged The Cat for some explanation. The Cat offered none. It just collected its pay and moved on.
War never changes