Twas the night before the second Mechatronics exam, when all through the suite, not a roommate was stirring, not even a — what was that? Out of the corner of my eye. Did I see movement by the shoes?
I haven’t gotten that much sleep recently and I’m really, really stressed. Maybe this is a low grade sleep-deprivation hallucination. I’m sure that’s it and I’m certainly alone. To celebrate, I’ll even treat myself to another reassuring look at the shoes.
Oh.
Hello friend.
Pest.
Deplorable critter.
You appear to be atop my left boot. Have you considered it may be in your best interest to kindly yet rapidly fuck off?
Umm sir? SIR! THE PANTRY IS NOT A VIABLE ALTERNATIVE!
Wait a second… Now I know exactly where he is! He’s cornered! His days are numbered! I’ll just open the door and place this box over him! 3… 2…1… Where is he? How did he–
It’s a travesty that humans are not more agile. Haven’t we (allegedly) evolved to be hunters? A mouse is just a little guy. He’s just trying to munch on some crumbs, and I’m just trying to crush him with my iron first of oppression. Not too dissimilar to the average American citizen and the IRS. Alas, he’s evaded my audit once more.
Wait! There is still hope! We are not animals. We have technology! Google says mouse traps. I say let the arms race begin. Do mice have arms? Are they all legs? I don’t care! They’re vile and must be disposed of as fast as possible.
After a brief excursion off campus to the nearest rodent arms dealer (Home Depot, a mouse trap vendor), it’s Morbin’ time!
The trap is set. The bait is placed. But a watched pot will never boil.
Four hours passed. The trap has sprung but the mouse is still on the lam with a tummy full of bait. The trap was a dud.
I set out a second trap identical to the first and baited with equally enticing snacklets. I figured they’re not the most precise instruments, with loose tolerances and mild manufacturing defects from the factory abounding. I must sleep, for I have become sleepy, the goer to bed.
The next morning could not come soon enough. I gleefully peer out of my room to check and see if Christmas has come early.
Success! There’s one less pest running amok! Wait a second… I never realized a simple mouse trap could be so violent. He was just a little field mouse after all. Oh the humanity. Taken out in his prime! What if he had a family? With a wife and mousettes? Just a little mouse in the rat race. The Big Cheese must be short staffed without prior notice. He didn’t even have a chance to put in his two weeks. What have I done? Where are my morals?
It has been one entire day since his death. The suite feels emptier. I’d say it’s quieter, but he was as quiet as a mouse, after all. He may have been unwanted and unloved, but everyone deserves a proper send off. A service will be held by his gravesite (the Riverview building B dumpster) from 1-2 p.m. this Saturday. All are welcome to attend the remembrance of life.
