Hell-mice and Homework

What do those two have in common? Nothing.

But those are the only two things on my mind right now, buried, like some character from Dante's nightmares, neck-deep in homework. I'm trying to do that most vile but necessary of tasks right now, as I write, but I can't concentrate over the chirping and noisy rummaging of those little gray demons that waddle out from under the microwave cart, nick a clod of dog food, and scurry back into the dark to nibble and make infernal, scratching noises, while they gorge themselves on the spoils of my labor.

Too harsh? Not hardly! Death to the hellion menaces! I relish the thought of stomping their heads in. Their beady little eyes mocking my attempts to banish them from the world of the living. Seen the movie Mousetrap? That must have been written by someone trying to do homework while the evil little beasts from the netherworld taunt them with their scratching and clawing and demonic chirping.

And the cat? Asleep in the chair there. Snoozing gently. Completely oblivious and uncaring. To chase them would mean getting up off his lazy, gray a$$ and doing something productive.

There they go again. Nibbling on something. Rattling little scraps of paper that have fallen from their refrigerator magnet and slid into that dark recess from whence issue those mocking noises.

The tell-tale-mice have scratched their last. Pardon me while I do what I must to rid my house of that evil, infernal noise!

UPDATE: Bought mouse traps. Set them. Six mice with broken necks later and one that only got its foot caught and dragged the trap under the stove which forced me to fish it out with a hanger and smack it with a stick to kill the little beast and . . . silence. No scratching, no poop, no little spots of mouse pee left around inside drawers and in cabinets.