This Means War

I hadn't seen or heard from my rodent roommate in the couple of days. So, like a fool, I let my guard down. I stopped putting my soap in the sink when I left the lair. I discontinued my practice of taking the trash out on an hourly basis.

A few days ago, I got back from the gym, went to jump into the shower and... yep, the fucking soap was gone AGAIN. The mouse had not left, he'd just lain low for a few days. Clever bastard. Again, I cracked off another box from the Irish Spring value pack and, with some mouse-related grumbling, went on with my life.

Until I went to change my clothes, and saw it...

A MOUSE TURD ON MY BED, still glistening with morning dew-like freshness.

He had literally shit the bed. MY BED! There are some things you just don't do - lines that are drawn - and shitting on a dude's bed is one of them.

I'd tried to play it nice, with my passive-aggressive humane trap and all of that useless bullshit. Sometimes you try to be decent, and you get walked all over. This was one of those situations. Motherfucker had called down the thunder.

I went to the drug store and scored some D-Con. In case you're not familiar, D-Con is rat poison. My guess is it works on mice, too. It looks like tasty mouse pellets, though they're a bluish-green, the color of toxicity. It comes in little trays, like a TV dinner.

I got back and set out my little deadly meals in strategic locations: the pantry, behind the fridge, his little runway between, and one in the bathroom.

Days have passed. I have not seen the mouse, or heard him. But we've proven that doesn't necessarily mean anything. I can only hope his little mouse friends don't hear from him either, so they get worried and, after repeatedly knocking on his little mouse door, force their way in only to find him slumped over his little mouse kitchen table with X's over his eyes, his tongue hanging out, one frozen paw gripped to his cold throat, the other clutching D-Con pellets. One mouse will look to the other and say, "I TOLD him not to shit a dude's bed."

The mouse is dead. Long live the mouse.