Mouse Hunt

My friend is going to kill me for this, but it’s his own damn fault for telling me the story after he has read my entire blog. Did you really think I wouldn’t post this? So he has a mouse or two scurrying around his house. He buys a couple mouse traps, loads them up with peanut butter (same stuff he uses on the wifey), and sets them out before going to bed. Middle of the night he hears a WHACK and wakes up. He figures it’s one of the traps and gets up out of bed. Yep, there’s Mickey Mouse, struggling to get out. Supposedly the trap is supposed to kill them instantly but he’s frantically trying to get out (while taking a leak on my friend’s floor). Now D is not that much of a manly man, I’d be surprised if he has a hammer in his house. If he does I’m sure his wife uses it more than he does. So he’s wondering what to do with the mouse who’s slowly working his way out of the trap. He picks up the trap and decides he’s going to flush it down the toilet (because drowning a mouse is much more humane than smacking it on the head a couple times). He gets to the toilet and accidentally drops the mouse and the trap in the can. Since the trap won’t go down the drain he runs to the closet and finds some rubber gloves (like I said, manly man). But by the time he gets back to the bathroom Mickey’s lungs are full of the finest Brookfield toilet water. If I were a mouse in his house I’d hope the trap would do me in.