Poop!

Looking through the keyhole I spied a mouse. It was ordinary in size and had the unmistakable scent of oranges. His whiskers frisked the kickboard as he wandered lazily to and fro. I couldn't wait to unhinge the wax figurine he so closely resembled. I put on my shoes and prepared for battle. Along the way I found crumbs from a forgotten midnite snack; perhaps these are the reason for my unwelcome guest. I crept closer, ever closer and finally *SPLAT* I popped his corpse with the sole of my left shoe. It sounded a little like the sound I used to make with my emptied sandwich bag that my mom had so lovingly made for me earlier that morning. I put ammonia on the stain and stuck pixie dust in the keyhole. I was satisfied.

Now I find myself wondering how unholy the whole endeavor was to begin with! I stare at my finger-nails and ask myself what I could've done differently. "Nothing" is my reply. So for the next five months I'll be staring at my finger-nails and talking gibberish; unholy gibberish I might add.