Fivel moves into Suite High Life

So, the mice have become bolder...

Tonight, we had a party with many guests, and the poor little bleepity bleeps decided they wanted to come too. All four of them, Rasputin, Trojan, Anastasia, plus some Fivel as a party guest.

So they came out to play. In the midst of the party. Never ye mind that there were people all around. No no, they apparently are claiming squatters rights.

Irate, I decided to reset a trap for them, fully laden with delicious peanut butter. So tightly sprung that I almost lost a finger in the process of setting it. Literally.

Now, party guests all gone, I am sitting here, watching Anastasia, the smallest cutest most delicate of the four, eat the peanut butter OFF OF THE FREAKING TRAP without springing it while I'm sitting less than 4 feet away.

Cheeky little bastards.

It seems that our first alternative, the humane and rapid system of mouse decapitation, might need to be replaced by another system.

On a side note, my roommates and I decided that if we do decide to go the feline route of mouse-control, we will most likely name the cat Gus Gus, just for the irony of it all. No sweaters or cute booties will be provided to either mice or cats.