Mousetraps don’t work. There’s a mouse at my place, and we set a ton of traps, and we haven’t caught one. If you wanted to compare mousetraps to the flailing U.S. economy, I wouldn’t disagree with you. They might as well be called epicfailtraps, because the mousetrap as an invention represents failure at its most epic proportion.
James Henry Atkinson? Inventor of the mousetrap? I know you died in 1942, but I hope you know that your legacy is for shit. A little research on my part revealed that Atkinson’s name for it was the “Little Nipper.” Anytime the name you give your invention sounds like it’d be a good nickname for a serial child molester, you’re off to a real good start.
You’ve got to wonder how the thing we call a mousetrap even earns that name anymore if it doesn’t do what the name says it does. That would be like calling a baseball bat a banana maker. There is no way you can make a banana with a baseball bat, right? You wouldn’t see Hideki Matsui make a couple of random movements with his Louisville Slugger and produce something that resembles a plantain, then shrug and say, “Guess I’m a little off today!” That would never happen. So what I’m saying is, there’s no reason to a mechanical device a mousetrap when it doesn’t trap mice. A better name would be “Piece of Fake Cheese Attached to Metal and Wood.” The brand we got was called MouseGuard, which is fitting, because it definitely guards the mouse from any harm.
What I think this signals is a high point in the evolution of mice. Their tiny brains have finally figured out the concept of the mousetrap. I’m surprised it took them this long to figure it out. What did they think it was before?
Hey guys, have you been in the kitchen recently? The humans installed a new cheese machine. I know, I know, being crushed by a cheese machine is the leading cause of death among our species, but I mean……it’s FREE CHEESE! We can’t pass that up. Life is short, you have to take chances. We could go at any minute. Look at Terry. Last week the poor guy got crushed by a cheese machine.
Hey mice – how about this: if you can figure out a way not to get caught in traps designed for you, how about figuring out a way to not shit in my bread? Can you get the boys down at your mouse lab to work on that one for me?
Someone recommended non-humane traps, but I won’t do it. Mice are too docile to torture. Think you can? Okay. Close your eyes and picture Mickey Mouse sitting on a table in an empty room. The beloved character from your childhood. Smiling, happy, whistling an upbeat tune. Got it? Now imagine four thugs breaking in and waterboarding him. He struggles to break free while they demand he tell them Goofy’s whereabouts. That’s why I don’t use glue traps.
We need a compromise. We have bird feeders. What about a mouse feeder? You turn a dollhouse into a make shift mouse bar. You can even get one of the mice to wear a bowtie and a vest so he looks like one of those bartenders from the Old West. And if you want to get rid of them altogether, just offer some deals at happy hour, and throw the whole thing outside when it reaches capacity. Give them half off appetizers. They may be able to resist a piece of fake cheese covered in peanut butter, but let’s see them turn away $3.99 fajitas. Those mice will be faj-eating outside your house in no time.
I have to give the mouse in my house some credit. He actually eats the peanut butter we put on the trap and still doesn’t get caught. I didn’t realize a mouse could be that cunning. What if all mice got really intelligent and vengeful at the same time, and decided that us humans needed to be taught a lesson, so they attached a giant metal bar to the top of the Olive Garden or something, and whenever anybody ate there they got their necks snapped by that giant bar? Then after that happens a bunch of scientist mice in lab coats outside high five each other. That would be true poetic justice.
My point is, fuck a mouse and fuck a mousetrap. Also, anyone related to James Henry Atkinson who’s reading this, know that your ancestor was a piece.