Death House

We had long suspected that there might be a mouse or two in the house - due to the tell-tale signs of droppings about the place. Also, a little rodent had been spotted from time to time scurrying back under the cooker for shelter.

Last night, the little bastard walked into the living room without so much as a bye or leave, totally oblivious to the danger that we presented.
That cheeky little sod has now had a death sentence pronounced upon it by a unanimouse verdict.

Death-traps will be secured, and a bit of cheese will be sacrified all in the cause of the pursuit of justice. No more shall the tyranny of the bewhiskered droppings-leaver prevail.