Scotty Drops His Wrench

In one of my father's episodes of syncopation (irregular movement from bar to bar), he met the big Scotsman with whom he shared an adventure when they both wore a younger man's clothes. Although they never crossed paths at the time, they were both soldiers in the army of the United States fighting the Moros in the Philippine Insurrection of 1902.  That formed a bond between the two old vets so when it turned out we needed some plumbing work done, the man my father called was his old comrade in arms, Scotty the plumber.

The plumbing issue was under the floor of the house that required going into the crawl space, which had only about two feet of clearance.  Scotty said that was no problem and he crawled in on his back dragging an extension cord with a light fixture and his pipe wrench.  My father and I were crouched down outside the access hole, ready to give any assistance that might be needed.

Scotty had just started work when he suddenly started screaming and shrieking extreme curse words as he began a violent back-crawling to the exit hole.  When finally making it out he leapt to his feet, clutching his crotch with his right hand.

A rat had crawled up his pants leg and when the plumber felt the rodent moving he started screaming (wouldn't you?) and clutched the invader just as it reached the jewel box. One thing Scotty would not do is release his hold on the rat. But one thing he would do is get the hell out of there using his left arm and both legs and his butt-lifts to make that happen. All the while screaming and cursing and banging his head.

Once out of the hole Scotty yelled at my father to unhook his overalls and pull them down while he still clutched the rodent. But the rat was done for, sent to its after-life reward by the pressure of Scotty's grip.  The plumber told my father that was it for the day so they talked me into retrieving  Scotty's wrench that was still under the house.

He should have worn his kilt.