This morning, I'm musing over mouseys and how to trap their nasty little bent whiskered destucto chewing/screwing machine azzes before they make for themselves an upscale bordello in my offsite stored winter clothing. These little bitches seem to just love entertaining their hopped up (no, they just basically belly crawl, don't they?) mousey clientale in my down vests and jackets...and I DON'T even want to think about what they do in my long janes. Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
Anyway. I'm considering my options and I remember a commercial I saw a couple years ago for a mousetrap that's like a giant version of a roach motel. It's a little circular boxy thing, and mice go in, but mice DO NOT come out. And you cannot SEE the dead mouse. The commercial showed two ceramic windup mouseys, and one went cheerfully into the black box all ready to party and stuff and far less cheerfully, I suppose, never came out; and one went into a "traditional" mousetrap and was cruelly broken into skittering ceramic smithereens in this horrifying and visual way, and then the narrator of the commercial said, in ominous tones, something like, "Which do YOU want to clean up, Missy?"...which led to visceral mental images of chipping dried bloody mouse spatter off the floor and toting tiny, shattered corpses to the garbage.
On the surface, it seems like it's a good commercial. But...it doesn't really explain how the box thingy WORKS. Mice go IN, but mice do not come out. WHAT HAPPENS IN THERE? Once you get the traditional mouse-trap visual out of your head, this box thingy gets kind of...well...ominous sounding and sh*t. This morning in a post Australian white wine imbibing glow, I am hypothesizing that perhaps there is a tiny vortex in there that transports mice to a circle of mousey hell. A tiny vortex that smells like cheese or peanut butter as a temptation to twitching mousey noses...OR...the box thing contains a miniture tribe of Cannibal Mice, which means that you are actually bringing MORE mice into your space to eat the first mouse...OR...maybe there is a tiny vengeful sadist in these things who, once the mouse is in, stuffs a jester hat on its happy little mousey head and then starts bricking up the entrance all the while cackling over some obscure Australian wine *thanks EONS Wine Group for this little bit of inspiration* and playing Wagner arias in the background.
But it's all too, too sicky scary to think about right now, so I am passing on both the new fangled mousetrap AND the traditional mousetrap in favor of the The Classic, I think. Unless you guys have some good ideas.
Mornin' All!
