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Chimney Pests Attack Santa

Twas the night before Christmas, when we heard in our house Chimney pests stirring, including a mouse. Bees built hives inside the chimney with care, In hopes that they wouldn't be found living in there.

When up on the roof there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the chimney I flew like a flash, Only to see bats fly away in a dash.

Inside I heard scurrying as I wondered the cause, Of the scratching and pawing of tiny rodent paws. As I stuck in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney a squirrel leaped; he had been found.

It’s then I began to worry if Santa would come Down a chimney full of pests, now that would be dumb. I should’ve got pest control, treatment would've been quick Now I’m left worrying if we’ll get a visit from St. Nick.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, The prancing and pawing of each reindeer hoof. As I chased off the squirrel, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

As he emerged from the chimney, my fears were realized As killer bees swarmed, and began stinging his eyes. Santa disturbed them, coming down the chimney this night; I have to hand it to that jolly elf, he put up a fight.

Santa began swinging at the bees with his bag full of toys, Originally meant for all of the good girls and boys. With the twitch of his nose, and the wink of an eye, He magically whisked away the bees, and said his goodbye.

If it wasn't for Santa’s Christmas magic, That Christmas may have been a little more tragic. Next Christmas I’ll be a little more prepared, I’ll get pest control; Santa needn't be scared.

Merry Christmas From Bulwark Exterminating!

1-800-496-2545

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Satisfied Customers

Jana TX
5/5
I consider Bulwark to be single-handedly responsible for my ability to remain a Texas resident. My years of renting in this fine state have made me a reluctant connoisseur of cockroaches. I really can't explain why I loathe cockroaches so, although I think their otherworldly speed and ability to masquerade under deceptively less-frightening aliases (Palmetto bug? Seriously? May as well name them Minnie and Mickie Roach) has something to do with it. The night I encountered my first flying cockroach was a) my own personal hell, and b) the night I decided that (in honor of Scarlett O'Hara) as God as my witness, I would never share my kitchen with a cockroach again. Honestly, I wasn't even sure it was possible-- we were renting a home from the 50s, and everyone had more or less told me that it was practically impossible to eradicate roaches from older construction. I read tons of online reviews and talked to friends and I found my way to Bulwark. After the first month of their treatment, we never saw a roach in our house again, something I cannot say for previous exterminators we tried. And I now feel safe at night walking into my kitchen and my bathroom. Happy ending.
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