Tonight's antics can only be expressed in a modified version of Earnest Lawrence Thayer's Casey at the Bat; fitting because the yard is commonly used as a baseball diamond.
Tonight my gaze was drawn to the Scukanec whiffle park:
Where I noticed a small pitcher's mound while it was getting dark.
When I looked out the window (once broken by a ball),
What I thought was a pitcher's mound wasn't for pitching at all.
John laughed and said with evil eyes, "This calls for something potent!"
He then emerged from the garage looking very calm.
A gasp came from the nervous crowd when they saw the Rodent Bomb.
There was pride in ol' John's bearing and a he smiled at the crowd.
And when, responding to the cheers, he pointed to his shirt,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt he was headed for that dirt.
He pounded with cruel violence his trowel upon the ground.
Wasting no time, he lit the fuse and put it in the hole.
That's when a thought went through my head I'm glad I'm not a mole.....