"Oh... dammit..." Morton Rainey muttered under his breath as he noticed the few scattered 'presents' that were left in his drawer.

Mice.

How could he have mice? It's not like he lived in a drafty cabin with food left out everywhere!

I live in a drafty cabin with food left out everywhere. Crap.

Mort slowly walked over to the phone, glancing nervously around the room as if rodents were just waiting to leap under his feet and get squashed. He frantically flipped through the pages of a phone book, searching for an answer.


The man on Morton's porch was particularly ugly. His gut hung over the black pants held tightly with a belt and his chubby face was creased with wrinkles.

"Yeah... You have deer mice..." He said loudly, staring at a packet of papers. "I believe they're comin' in 'cuz it's startin' to get colder out..."

Morton gave him a disgusted look. "And I am to do... what?"

"Place baited snap traps in corners, along walls and behind objects..." The man started, counting off on his fingers. Mort nodded slowly, although he had no idea what the man was talking about... The guy was starting to trail off in his own little world.

" In unoccupied structures... Registered rodenticide baits work well, but few are labeled for deer mice." He looked up at Morton. "You should always read the labels, son. Follow 'em."


More soon. :)