Three Blind Mice

I work as an RA at my university. Along with free rent and the fact that I get to hang out with completely awesome people - this means that sometimes I have to be responsible when things go awry. One such joyous occasion has just finished affecting the better part of my afternoon.

A few hours ago, I heard incredible amounts of screaming from outside. Seriously - it sounded like someone was being killed or attacked or something intense! I went outside armed with my machete and intimidating attitude, ready to apprehend the attacker and liberate my beloved neighbors. It turns out, the girls below me had found a mouse in their apartment. A MOUSE! Now - mice don't really freak me out, but as the lovely bio majors tearfully informed me while shaking in my living room, mice carry all sorts of diseases, including the bubonic plague! And the girls were not even CLOSE to kidding. So, thus began the process of contacting the right people on campus to figure out how to bring out an exterminator or pest control person to make sure their apartment was now clean and mouse-free. (Another neighbor had freed the girls from the mouse already and at this point, my job was about helping my friends feel safe once again.)

We made the appropriate calls, and the situation was resolved. The girls went back to their apartment and I went about my business. Half an hour later - the attacker returned and so did the screams. I received a phone call pleading me to come and help the girls, who were standing on their kitchen table shaking and crying in fear and distress. They had been eating lunch when TWO MORE mice ran around the corner and hid in their pantry. The original liberator Isaac and I returned to the apartment, this time armed with a pop tarts box (Isaac's), a mag light, a broom, and our tracking skills. Isaac skillfully wrestled the mice out of the pantry and I moved the quivering pop tart box outside. The girls called two other guy friends over to help. The boys were suspects in this incident for the mice we had in the box were suspiciously white and clean...resembling the kinds of mice you would buy as pets from a store.

Under verbal abuse by the distressed girls, the boys laughingly admitted to being the culprits. The girls were NOT thrilled by any means, and further berated the boys for being such cruel and inconsiderate friends and jerks. Note to all men reading: when a girl is pissed/distressed/crying, do not - I repeat - do NOT laugh at them!! For I guarantee you, their wrath will fry you to an ashen crisp on the spot!! The guys in this situation walked into the graves that the three mice had effectively dug for them and lay down for burial when they informed the ladies that there was indeed a fourth mouse somewhere.

After pulling apart the apartment, the three boys and myself found the last mouse and put him with his friends in the pop tart box. I asked the boys what they were going to do with them - and they said they planned on setting them free. You can't set PET mice "free" in the wild!! I told them that was unacceptable, and they then tried to convince me that they would return the mice to Petco instead. There is no way the could have convinced me of the truth of this statement - not with the mirth still in their eyes! I informed them that I would return the mice for them, climbed into my car, and drove to Petco with my three friends who were now mourning the loss of their companion who had be "set free" earlier in the morning.

*Sigh*

The girls are still pissed, the pranksters are sitting in a pit of wrath, and the mice are rustling around in a cage full of sawdust, recovering from their traumatic morning adventures.

2 hours later...I'm back to homework.