Thursday, February 3, 2011

Weapons Of Mouse Destruction

Once again, I have detected the presence of a mouse thingy.

Not a catnip mousie thingie.

An actual living, breathing, squeaking, scritching, scurrying, cheese munching, two legger scaring, nose twitching, wall gnawing, pellet depositing, mangy little mouse thingy.

It, like all of its' predecessors, must die.


After it has provided me with the proper amount of amusement.

Now before any of you "Save the Mice" types get all up in arms about rodent cruelty and other such nonsense, please allow me to explain something first.

The mouse thingy in question has it coming. He has made an informed decision to enter my abode. He was aware of the risks when he decided to trespass upon my territory. Now, I am not saying that there are actual signs in my yard that read: "Give up all hope, all ye mousie thingies that enter here" or anything, but everyone that has access to the internet must be aware by now that uninvited rodentia do not fare well in my presence.

I do not pretend to have insight into the mind of a mouse, (although given comparative cranial capacity, Ivan may be more in tune with them) but I do have my theories.

Perhaps the scurrier in question is suicidal. Perhaps it wishes to end its' worthless little life in a way that is neither clean nor painless, but instead incredibly painful and messy. This may have compelled it to enter the chamber of mousie horrors that I call home.

Maybe it is being driven by some adrenalin seeking compulsion not unlike the two leggers that I see on the talking box thingy that jump from airplanes or attempt to take chocolate from Rosie O'Donnell.

I have no clue. But the mouse thingy has made its' decision and must pay the consequences.

However, I am nothing if not benevolent.

Just as Ivan and I were stalking the future mousie corpse, the female two legger entered the room and upon spotting the tiny, quivering little lump of catbait, let out a high pitched scream that reportedly sent a herd of buffalo in Montana stampeding into Idaho. (Unfortunately there is nothing in Idaho to damage, so very little chaos ensued, and frankly no one noticed)

This caused me to stop and ponder.

If this mouse thingy can cause such a reaction in two leggers, what else can it be used for?

I have decided to make it my probationary minion.

I will call it George.


  1. MOL - though we are too sure your two leggers are going to let you keep that new minion.

  2. A minion! I've always wanted a minion!