Hasta la vista, baby.

At the end of my last post, war was declared. And where I'm from, thems fightin' words. After a trip to the store I acquired myself two old school mouse traps. I didn't know what was in my stove. Be it a mouse, rat, snake, chipmunk, water buffalo, or perhaps even Elvis. But whatever it was, I was going to catch it. Or at least a part of it.

I covered all the stove elements with plates, leaving only one open. I wasn't quite sure what to bait the trap with, having no prior experience in rodent control. But a beer wouldn't fit on there, and there's no way in hell that critter was getting some of my pizza. So I smeared some peanut butter on, and set the trap down in the stove's underbelly.

Having cased the crime scene earlier, I knew the freak wouldn't come out until night, so off the lights went. And again, I waited. Only this time, I didn't have to wait long.

(Double-click the image to play clip)

In what has to be some kind of world record time for critter trapping, my little weapon of mass destruction unleashed a tactical strike, ending my little roommate's stay. (And with zero collateral damage I might add.)

I don't know how Stuart Little got in here, but I do now that now I have to spend the rest of my weekend disinfecting my entire kitchen.

All in all, I was a bit disappointed at the mouse's war effort. I thought this was actually going to be a challenge. Since mice are supposed to be the smartest things on earth and all. Pfft, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy sure got that one wrong...