What’s next Lay’s? Liver and onion flavored chips?
I’ve got a big problem in the Skipah’s Realm dojo these days, nothing on par with a sinkhole suddenly showing up in my front yard, but Miss Madison and I have a dead mouse somewhere in our hacienda. Earlier this winter a renegade troop of mice led by General Ralph Mouse arrived clandestinely through the night on motorcycles. At first, they infiltrated the garage and began breeding like virgins on prom night. Only they weren’t practicing safe sex and were hopped up on Horny Goat Weed. A week later their little infantry had suddenly grown to a battalion, and they tried in vain to overtake our house. I don’t know if they heard President Trump was making it open season on mice for various lab tests or what, but they were seeking residence in our happy home.
To quote Lee Corso “Not so fast, my friend!” I’m for mice extinction at any level. I hate them, and PETA can kiss my arse! I’m wanted in at least 63 countries for mouse genocide. Per the dark net, Mighty Mouse is mulling a comeback to do battle with me. All I can say is bring it! Once I figured out we had a mouse invasion taking place, I did what any red-blooded male would do, I loaded up the cart at Walmart with mouse traps!
The day I walked in the house with 17 bags of mouse traps and peanut butter laced with arsenic, General Ralph Mouse would have been wise to hop back on his motorcycle and attack the neighbor. Only he didn’t, and it proved to be a poor tactical move on his part. Call me sadistic, Call Me Maybe (hey I just met you), but don’t call me a friend of the mice. Hell, I hate Mickey Mouse!
You can believe me or tell me I’m full of butt excrements, but I may or may not have modified my 75 cent mouse traps. Quick and painless death is only a pipe dream for these little paper eating bastards! The hairpin trigger isn’t enough for me, I may or may not have filed the arming device to .0000000000012 of an inch (that’s like microscopic) so if they so much as breathed wrong their neck and nose could end up snapped. If I had the time or engineering background, I would make all mouse traps into some sort of guillotine. It won’t make any history books but the great Mouse Wars of 2017 should be a footnote for any future Mouseketeers book reports.
Once dead mice started showing up, did I dispose of them, I don’t think so! They hung like a trophy on my wall as a lesson to all the other mice that dared to set foot in our living quarters. Of course, dead mice stink (a painful lesson I’m learning), so Miss Madison insisted I get rid of them before our house is condemned. Just to prove how stupid mice are, my wall of mutilated eyeballs and smashed torso’s didn’t stop the onslaught at all. I finally captured one alive and had it sit on one of those glue traps just so he could watch all his friends go out with their own personal mouse pyre, before he went in alive! Did I mention I hate mice?
I will burn anything for the sake of a “nice” fire, dead mice of General Ralph’s Mouse brigade is just icing on the cake!
After a couple of days of battle, my contacts in the rodent world informed me that a bounty was on my head and most wanted posters were being hung all over the place. General Ralph Mouse even ordered my likeness burned in effigy…it didn’t work! My modified traps, strapped with the finest in German cutlery, decimated General Ralph Mouse over a period of four days. I may have made a small error though with the arsenic laced peanut butter. A huge error!
Every time I walk into my house I smell a dead rodent! Every piece of furniture has been overturned, I’ve sent The Turtle Man through the duct work armed with a pellet gun and a 100-lumen flashlight to no avail, my trusty steed Karma has been dispatched to all crevices of the house, and she can’t find it! I’ve personally witnessed her eating regurgitated Kibble and Bits so nothing is too gross for her. I may have slain General Ralph Mouse, his top officers, and all his troops except one! He’s dead, but he’s hidden! Well played, General Ralph Mouse, I eradicated 12 of your species but you sent one of your minions to be some sort of rodent suicide bomber. Not since World War II has such guerrilla warfare tactics been used by rodents.
About it for now, I just got home Lowe’sfrom with a brand new 20 lb. sledgehammer. It’s time to start knocking holes in the walls one room at a time. I won’t stop until the house is sitting on nothing but the studs, or until I capture this four-legged grim reaper!