The Earl of Sandwich

So the mouse families residing in our apartment building continued to escape or avoid getting caught in our traps.

A few days passed since Houdini's miraculous escape. I was calmly going about my business, assuming we would probably never catch anything ever again.

I got up out of bed one morning, checked my email, changed out of my pajamas and went into the kitchen to get some cereal for breakfast. I retrieved my cereal from the cupboard and went to go pull the milk out of the fridge. I opened the door and bent down to the bottom shelf to grab the milk. That is when I noticed the glue trap had been pulled out from under the fridge somehow and my hand was now dangling dangerously close to a writhing mouse, who looked like he had been at it for quite sometime.

The fridge door had caught the top of the mouse causing it to be pulled out from it's little hiding place.

I jumped back and screamed. I shuddered uncontrollably. Then with knees knocking, I contemplated what to do. Matt had already left for the day so I was on my own with this one. I knew I needed to get it out of the house before it pulled a Houdini on us.

Every time I got close to the poor thing, it started to struggle again. This would cause me to scream. It went on like this for a few minutes with me trying to suck it up and move the mouse and the mouse wriggling around and me screaming.

Finally, I attempted to get down to business. I put ziplock bags on my hands to protect myself from mouse germies. I put my shoes on. I took a deep breath. I grabbed the broom and pushed the frantic mouse three inches away from the fridge so I could at least close the fridge door.

I caught my breath and realized there was no picking this mouse up and getting it into a garbage bag and running it downstairs. I just knew I didn't have the stomach.

First, I furiously called the apartment management, who own my building. I told them that we had a mouse problem, yet again, and that I had caught a mouse in a glue trap and was not paying an exorbitant amount of rent to have to exterminate these mice myself. I demanded someone come over and remove the mouse.

In the meantime, I didn't want it to escape, so I had to make sure it wasn't going anywhere.

I looked around and saw another glue trap in the other corner of the kitchen. I picked it up and then stood over the mouse with it. Without coming into contact with the mouse even through the thick cardboard of a glue trap, I dropped the glue trap on top of it. This way it would be stuck on both sides. Try escaping now!

To my horror, as soon as the glue trap landed on top of the mouse, it started to squeak uncontrollably for about ten seconds. I screamed over the squeaking. I felt terrible because I imagined the panic that the little guy was experiencing thinking that perhaps the sky was falling when really it was just being made into a sandwich. A glue trap sandwich.



Then I couldn't stand watching the top glue trap moving about as the mouse underneath struggled continuously so I decided to cover it further.

I found a cardboard box in a closet and placed it over the mouse. Then, just in case this mouse was definitely a miraculous escape artist, I put a heavy kitchen stool on top of the box.

I felt comfortable enough to leave, knowing it would be impossible for the sandwich mouse to escape anywhere.

While I was gone, Matt threw the sandwich out. He said the mouse, "put up some token resistance" until thrown into a garbage bag where it became resigned to it's fate and was trashed in the dumpster outside.

We thus dubbed this mouse the Earl of Sandwich. May he rest in peace.

A little end note:
I would like to acknowledge that I am a cruel, cruel person. Regardless, if you think this story isn't funny, then you probably lack a sense of humor or you are distracted from your sense of humor because of some rather large obstruction that is currently up your butt.