Of Modest Mice and Bitter Men

When I was seven years old, my Dad did something that forever changed my perception of life. One afternoon I heard frenzied squealing coming from my little sister's room. I ran to investigate, and I discovered a tiny mouse caught in a mousetrap under her dresser. My Dad came into the room and placed the mouse, trap and all, into a brown paper bag. I followed him outside, and I recall feeling happy that we were going to set the mouse free. But my Dad didn't set him free. He placed the sack on the porch and dropped a large rock onto it a few times. I began crying and ran inside. Why did this mouse have to die? What had it done to deserve such a gruesome demise? He was just an innocent little guy! It was then that I knew that the world was a terrible, violent place. I knew that there was no hope for humanity, a race of decadent animal slaughterers.

This morning I was heading for the shower when I noticed something moving in my window well. On closer inspection I saw that it was a mouse; it must have fallen into the window well somehow and become trapped. I grabbed a pair of gloves and an old tupperwear container and went outside. After a few minutes of chasing him around I managed to get him into the container. I released him into the wilds behind our house, where he is free to make many babies and most likely be eaten by a house cat. I have decided to name him Saint Morvanius, for obvious reasons.


Saint Morvanius ponders the mysteries of life


Saint Morvanius demonstrates his supernatural abilities


Saint Morvanius, you are a hero . . . and a good friend

The mouse that my Dad mercilessly bludgeoned has now been avenged by my act of kindness. Let this be a warning to all slayers of small creatures: you may think that your humanity gives you the right to maim and dismember at will, but I will find you, and then you will be the one in the paper bag! (Tongue in cheek my friends, I have no intention of ever joining PETA!)