Another Monday Morning
"Jim." the mouse squeaks.
You sigh and speak in a monotone voice, "He's dead Jim."
The rodent screams in horror, clutches his heart painfully, and dies.
You stare at the body for a few moments, satisfied. Suddenly you hear a small trumpet call, and you whip around to find several hundred thousand mice pour out of every crack and corner of the kitchen.
They devour you ravenously.
You sigh and speak in a monotone voice, "He's dead Jim."
The rodent screams in horror, clutches his heart painfully, and dies.
You stare at the body for a few moments, satisfied. Suddenly you hear a small trumpet call, and you whip around to find several hundred thousand mice pour out of every crack and corner of the kitchen.
They devour you ravenously.
