Once upon a time in Vietnam my brother was walking from here to there and passed some of the Kit Carson Scouts who were cooking lunch over an open fire.

"Hey, Sargey! You want some?"

"What you cooking?"

"Rat! Number Fuckin' ONE, Sargey!"

He sat down and ate with them, and his rep skyrocketed. He says it didn't taste bad, sort of like squirrel, but he didn't want to have it every day, either. It was a change from the mess hall food, though.