Mark from Suburbia had been noticing something odd for weeks. A strange, musky smell wafting up from under his back deck. At first, he dismissed it. “Probably just the neighbors and their compost pile,” he thought, chuckling to himself. But the smell persisted, growing stronger each day. It began to permeate his outdoor relaxation time, turning peaceful afternoons into moments of slight unese.

His wife, ever perceptive, insisted he investigate. “It could be dangerous, Mark! What if it’s gas? Or some kind of animal?” she’d urged. Mark, a creature of habit and comfort, had, with significant reluctance, decided today was the day.

Armed with a flashlight and a healthy dose of trepidation, Mark ventured into the dim, cramped space beneath the deck. The air was thick, heavy with the now-pungent odor. He shined the light around, and a what he saw next made him yell.

It was a colony of rats. They where massive, and everywhere. He quickly retracted from under the deck and called pest control immediately.

The pest control came and got rid of the rats, they quickly mentioned that this is a common place for animals to nest, to avoid future infestations, make sure there is no gaps for animals to nest