Aw, Gimme a BREAK!

I'd finally gotten Willie. I SAW the motherfucker eat the poison. And after that... nothing. No mouse turds, so late-night scurrying, nada. One day turned into two, and two turned into a week. There had been lulls before, but never this long. It seemed like, at last, my rodential nightmare had come to an end.

Mm-hm.

Having been once again lulled into a false sense of security, I started to try to pick up the pieces of my life, forging ahead into a kinder, gentler tomorrow.

Last night I read scripts and worked on EXTRADITION until I got sleepy, and hit the sack. (Just another wild Hollywood party night). This morning I awoke, refreshed and ready to tackle the new day. I went into the bathroom, flipping on the shower, and...

...the camera zoomed in on my stunned face even while it dollied back, creating the classic Hitchcock effect as the bottom dropped out of my reality.

THE SOAP WAS GONE.

I raised my fists to the heavens and cried: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Somewhere in the building, Willie paused between mouthfuls of oh-so-delicious, delicious Irish Spring to chuckle in response. Damn his furry soul.

Enough time had passed since our last run-in that there wasn't that much left to the bar. I'd even contemplated rewarding myself by going to Trader Joes and getting one of those swanky soaps that're made from the essence of waterfalls and shit. Good thing I didn't... it would have just been a five-star meal for a mouse.

I mean, I REALLY thought he was gone. No turds, no scurrying, no appearances, posion eaten with a smile. The previous soap stealings had been mouse thefts. This was a mouse HEIST.

(Hmmm... "Mouse Heist." You can kinda see that poster, huh?)

I recall the spindlies pulling this exact same con on me... tons of them all over the place for a while, suddenly no spindlies for a week, I relax, and BAM - I've got one crawling up my arm while I'm brushing my teeth.

And REALLY thinking back... even the hawk that menaced me did the same thing, vanishing for just long enough that I stopped looking over my shoulder, and BAM! Hawk attack! But that's another long and painfully ridiculous story.

I'd like to state for the record that I, Michael T. Kuciak, being of sound mind and body, thinks Mother Nature should go fuck herself and leave me alone.

With a weary heart, before leaving the apartment I made sure the soap was back in the sink. I'm determined to move... the rent's just gotten too high, and I'm pretty sure I can find a place that's both cheaper and better. The mouse isn't scaring me off, but he sure as fuck is acting as a catalyst for action.

Thanks, Willie. Yeah... THANKS, FUCKER.