The Sweet Sound of Silence

Trenches were dug.  Traps were set.  Sleep was lost.  The escalation continued, with Skittles' raiding parties racing to and fro above and behind our heads at all hours while the pest control crew continued to amass the rodent equivalent of WMD's until even they were afraid to enter the attic for fear of friendly fire.

And then there was silence.  

I will give Skittles some props.  He was one that obviously led by example.  And when he met his end above our heads, his minions scattered, fleeing to find some other roving gangs of ne'er-do-well rodents.  Or perhaps they simply retreated, waiting for another to fill the great squirrelly void he left.

It matters not.  With the main threat eliminated, our attic's defenses have been refortified against future attempts at retaliation.

Now everyone can rest in peace.

Pun intended, Skittles.

(We salute you.)