We had some of our English family for lunch this Sunday. My aunt, who is particularly fond of telling shocking stories around uptight people, described her recent experience with rodents. A couple months ago, she started realizing that a large group of rats was using the roof of her kitchen as a freeway between two houses. She went to local authorities to find out how to get rid of them. Surprisingly enough, they handed her five huge bags of rat poison without asking too many questions and basically invited her to deal with it herself. In order to have a view on the scene she threw the bags on the neighbours roof and came back around dusk to observe the mass murder. She described a pretty horrifying vision involving over a hundred rats rushing to eat up the entire contents of the bags. A couple days later, the traffic on her kitchen roof had ceased. When going back to the local authorities to find out whether there was any next step involved, a chap told her the best test was to place a piece of bread smeared with mayonnaise on her roof. If the bread was left uneaten, the rats were officially gone. Seduced by the Belgian folklore of it all, Fiona placed a ladder against the wall and reached up to the roof to place her mayonnaise-covered slice of bread and waited. The delectable dish remained untouched.