i got the call today. "come home. there are two dead mice in the traps you set." said a nervous mrs.
"i'm stuck up north for a few hours, waiting for the geniuses to fix my computer. i'll be home after dinner."
" can't you come earlier? i've got stuff to put in the pantry and i don't want to open the door."
"they're dead, y'know. completely kaput."
silence. so i get home and undo the traps, dropping the little critters in a WalMart bag, trucking out to garage. " hey, mice do a sort of reverse meconium. both of them had a little crap pellet sidled up next to their carcasses. and one had this *really surprised* look across his chops."
i had grabbed one by the tail and dangled it before my eyes.
"THAT'S GROSS.!" so i took an ammonia wipe and cleaned the crime scenes, dried it off and re-set the traps.
this was, in fact, the perfect set-up. tomorrow, after another kill, i will find a rubber mouse, stick it in a trap, and do the switcheroo at the appropriate time, lowering it into my mouth.
i can't ####ing wait.