This is the cat that gave up. That’s it, it’s time to go to sleep. We no longer care about performing useful services like keeping the house pest-free, playing with yarn, or even making sure our nostrils are on straight. No, we are throwing in the catnip ball, because we have met the mouse. We have met the mouse, and we are afraid of the mouse.
Well, I’m afraid of the mouse, anyway. It’s some sort of horrible mouse automaton, chrome eyebrows, and chameleon eyes that roll crazily in two different directions. And it looks like it’s about to launch a golf ball across the room. It’s actually a rare mouse that can do that, most of them can’t take a golf ball, and have to content themselves with launching English peas across the table, frankly, not much of a threat.
Oh…and is this mouse married? It’s got a ring on its hand, even over its giant “rated for hazardous waste” thickness glove. Does that mean there’s a pair of them? That they’re breeding MORE of these gargantuan, golf-ball-spitting rodent terrors? Heaven help us. Heaven help us all.
Dear Aunt KC. Thank you for the unearthly hellmouse. Next year, please don’t.
Found together at the Goodwill on Lamar and Manchacha, Austin
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