Of Mice and Whiny Men

So, I’ve moved to an old farmhouse last year. When it gets cold, the place becomes infested with mice.

We got cats, so no problem, right?
Well, no. Our cats are kind of assholes. They lounge around like they are in the First Class section of the Titanic, and us humans are their servants. To ask them to kill some vermin in exchange for a roof over their head seems to be beneath them.

So I got glue traps from Wal-Mart.

Not quite sure what I was thinking with that one. Perhaps I thought I could come home, find a dead rodent or two in the trap, then chuck it in the garbage and forget about it. (Like your mom did with that abortion in high school.).

What I didn’t expect was to come face to face with some poor living creature struggling in the glue. Something with intelligence, feels pain… and from the shrieking, feels fear, obviously.

So anyway…
I just got home and accidentally stepped on the one under my desk. As I am about to peel it off my sneaker…. I hear the desperate squeals of a terrified rodent under my foot.

Terrorist Rodent You aren't fooling anyone, bucko....
Terrorist Rodent You aren’t fooling anyone, bucko….

FUCK! *STOMP*
      FUCK!*STOMP*
           FUCK!!!*STOMP*

Not only is Ben Jr. still squealing and I didn’t put him out of his misery, but the glue trap is EXTRA stuck to me now… with mouse guts too, probably..

So I use the other foot to peel it off (fuck that, I ain’t using my hands). And find there are TWO mice struggling to live. One about the length of my thumb. Tiny little thing.

I’m not a heartless prick and won’t let them live their final hours in terror.
I toss the glue trap, with Ben and Willard in it, into a plastic bag, take it outside and stomp the shit out of it, to put them out of their misery and leave the bloody bag in the trash can. And hopefully scraped all the sticky, gooey mouse guts off the bottom of my sneaker in the wet grass.

That was too much for me…
I went and picked up regular mousetraps to snap their necks from now on. I’m a jerk… but I am not a monster.

So far no new takers. I think my message of “DEATH AWAITS ALL WHO ENTER THIS ROOM” has come off loud and clear.

Anyone know how to get mouse innards glued to the bottom of a sneaker off? It’s still there. Yuck.

Eric Brooks

Musician, Programmer, Graphic Designer, Evil Clown - A thorn in the Internet's side since 1997 with no intention of stopping any time soon.

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Published by Eric Brooks

Musician, Programmer, Graphic Designer, Evil Clown - A thorn in the Internet's side since 1997 with no intention of stopping any time soon.

Disclaimer: The views expressed herein are solely those of Eric Brooks. They do not necessarily reflect those of his employers, friends, contacts, family, or even his pets (though my cat, Puddy, seems to agree with me on many key issues.). In accordance to my terms of use, you hereby acknowledge my right to psychoanalyze you, practice accupuncture, and mock you incessantly with every visit. As the user, you also acknowledge that the author has been legally declared a "Problem Adult" by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and is therefore not responsible for any of his actions.