Zombie Mouse Update

I’ve spent the past two nights banging (heyoh!) on walls, kicking walls, shouting GO AWAY ASSHOLE! NO ONE INVITED YOU! DO YOU KNOW HOW RUDE IT IS TO SHOW UP UNINVITED?! and stomping around the apartminium like a crazy, braless madwoman holding Paco The Folding Penguin Taco* (you can just call him Paco, though) above my head because what am I going to do if I actually find Zombie Mouse in the apartminium? Show him Paco’s many uses as both a pillow and a pet? Look, I don’t make the rules it’s just how things work around here.

Needless to say my scare tactics are yielding less than stellar results. But I can’t exactly call up my landlord and be like, Look, so there’s this mouse in my walls. No, no I’ve never seen it. I don’t have x-ray vision. Yeah, he only comes around between 2am and 7am. I’ve tried banging on the walls, but that doesn’t seem to work. What do you suggest?

This can’t go on much longer though. Every time I get even close to sleeping that little fucker skitterscritches into my walls just mocking my inablility to sleep knowing he’s just on the otherside of the wall waiting for me to fall asleep so he can eat my brains.

Or something.

*I may be an almost 30 year old crazy, knitting, cat lady, but I did not go out and buy myself a Pillow Pet. It was a gift from my Godson.


4 thoughts on “Zombie Mouse Update

  1. I would call the landlord. Tell him there’s a mouse. If he asks if you’ve seen it, respond with, “Are you questioning the sanity of the person who pays the rent?”

    Also, I would get a white noise machine and drown the skitterscritches out. I really can’t sleep without one anymore.

    But yeah, I would still probably freak the freak out.

  2. Bogie says:

    I would have a talk with the cat. Mouse….Cat … you know? Maybe you have to explain the historical role cats have played in human lore as the fearless and brutal Umm…. terminators of mice. Who does he think he is? Garfield?

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