Buffet of Death

Okay, it's GO-time. We've played nicey-nice for too long here at 4 Ivy Street.

I knew Edison had pushed things a bit too far when, after surveying the "mouse drawer", (as it is now known) even Tina, perhaps the sweetest, the downright smurfiest munchkin in the land called Edison a "bleeping punk", except she didn't exactly say "bleeping".

While I admit, it is rather fun to hear Tina use profanity, especially when it is not directed at me, enough is enough. The gloves are coming off.

What awaits Edison (and his pals as I am no longer a proponent of the "Lone Mouse Theory") is what I would like to call "The Buffet of Death". Sounds positively dastardly, doesn't it? Sounds like something Dr. Evil would conjure up for Austin Powers, or maybe Simon Barsinister for Underdog.

It seems that these rodentia are at least brushing past the (miserable and disgusting) "glue" traps, sometimes even leaving a hair or two behind, and the glue trap did work once, (on Ed's double.) So... long story made painfully LONGER, I am going to create a mouse buffet that would shame the noon time special over at Han Dynasty.

It will be a repast Caligula would have been proud of- except there won't be naked chicks or be-headings. I am going to toss jam (to compensate for the shortage of slutty, naked mice) in there, perhaps a delightful piece of home made fudge, cheese, lunch meat- the freakin' drawer will look like a Smörgåsbord when I'm through with it- a Smörgåsbord of DEATH!

Muahahahahahaaaa!!!! Muahahahahahhahaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!

I'll toss in a few crumbs of home made bread, a smidgen of left over apple pie, and sprinkle it all with a light dusting of confectioner's sugar... which ironically looks like anthrax, from what I'm told.

It will be a culinary masterpiece on contact paper, the only catch, Edison and pals, is that you will not have to merely avoid a couple of lame-o snap traps and a glue trap... the drawer will be absolutely peppered with glue traps, peppered with them, I say.

What's that Eddie, a glue trap, oh you must be careful, my verminian pal, you'll want to wander over to the peanut butter bisque...oh what is that by the peanut butter bisque? TWO glue traps? What is surrounding the cookie? Is it two... no THREE glue traps? Weasle out of one glue trap, and BOOM, you'll find yourself in yet another? What a pity, Edison... what a bloody shame, Eddie-boy!

I must sound like one of those hopeless villains in a Bond movie who knows the script, knows Bond always gets out alive to wreak more havoc, yet blindly believes that this time, this time, he surely must fall into the electrified, acid-filled shark tank.

You've won this round, Eddie... but I'll be back... with nuclear weapons! (or, more likely, additional glue traps that don't seem to work all that well.)