At 4:28 a.m, I heard the snap. It woke me from a sound sleep, and I knew.
Somewhere in my kitchen, the mouse was dead.
I didn't feel relieved. Somehow, I knew that there would be more than one. Much to my dismay, I was right. Earlier this afternoon, I heard another snap. This time, under the kitchen sink. Just now, more rodenty scuffling. I think the invasion is in full swing.
Not that I'm not getting my catnip's worth out of Vitto, but I was really hoping he could have this taken care of quickly. Just had a meeting with him and... well...
Me: Vitto, I thought you were going to take care of my little problem.
Vitto: You think you got problems? Last week my old lady dropped a litter... looked like the freakin' Tabby down the street, but I'M the one that's gotta take a little trip to vet.
Me: Um. Sorry to hear that but back to the mouse infestation?
Vitto: Yeah, about that. See, I can finish the job for you, but it's gonna cost you, see.
Me: I already paid you.
Vitto: You paid me for one mouse. I took care of that mouse. Now you tell me there are more mouses. More mouses means more payment.
Me: It's "mice" actually,
(Vitto sharpens his claws and looks at me.)
Me: (gulps) How much are we talking? More catnip?
Vitto: Catnip Shmatnip. Sounds like you got a nest. Could be rats even. We're talking some more catnip, some kitty treats, and if there's a rat, I want fish. I like a good salmon, you know what I mean?
Yeah, Vitto I know what you mean. But I want my house back, so I guess I'm going down to the Market to get Vitto the freshest Salmon I can find. But only after he shows me the death certificates. Maybe I'll fax 'em to Donald Trump for authentication.
The saga continues....