The day I became a Killa.

Today, at around 7:00 pm Iraq time, I (hereby referred to as the killa) killed a cute little mousey (hereby referred to as poor little mousey.) The killa snuck up on the little mousey and proverbially stabbed it in the heart many times in a non-proverbial way. In doing so, he killed it until it was dead.

Actually, I didn’t stab it, I was actually trying to let it go free… ok here’s how the story goes…

I was working and noticed a little black blur by my door (which is just to the left of me if you remember the pictures.) Well, upon examination, it appears that mice can just crawl up under my door and get in my room. (Mice are very commonplace here. And they’re just that, mice. Cute little things about the size of a silver dollar. You’ll probably see like ten of them scampering around just driving down the road.) Well, two of them crawled up and came into my room. Well, I couldn’t have that, so I got up, put on my gloves and went for one of them. I was able to persuade this once to run back under my door and flee to safety. The second one, however, decided to be precarious and bolted across my room. My room is pretty clean since A) I don’t have much stuff and B) military people come in my room every day (since I work here) and so I don’t let it get become messy. Well, this mouse could only hide behind my bookshelf/dresser/and bed. And I sure as hell chased it back and forth across these areas. The chase went on for a few minutes with me almost catching it like twice. Then it ran under my body armor that was leaning up against the wall. I picked up my body armor and didn’t see it there. I guess it ran under my bed or somewhere because I lost it. Anyway, I threw my armor against my dresser (which had the bottom drawer semi-open. The armor closed the drawer and I heard a squeak. Looking back behind the drawer, I saw the cute little mousey on the floor doing the death spasm thing. Wrong place at the wrong time I guess. I actually feel bad for it. Sure, it was probably carrying 20^N diseases and all, but it was cute. And its little lover, who was smart enough to leave, will be all alone now. Except for the million other mice outside… who can no longer come into my room under the door… ever ever again.

About Matthew Jones

Writer, Programmer, Astronomer, Dreamer, Wisher, Fighter. Always striving to be better than I was.
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