The mummified mouse in a vintage tortoise trap

Something dead funny for the squeekend

If you follow me on Twitter, Facebook or FriendFeed etc you’ll probably know all about the cunning cat that nobbled my lunch yesterday. Dam that hungry thieving cat. Anyway that got me thinking about the headless mice that the blood-thirsty cats keep bringing in. And I remembered the tail of the emaciated mouse...

This time last year we were raiding the outlaws attic for a vintage pram and vintage pushchair and dusting them down when we stumbled upon a box of musty vintage toys. Don’t ask me about vintage toys, chairs and eBay btw, that’s another long tale for another day. Judging by the droppings and gnawed nature of the fluffy bears in the musty box, most of the stuff had been nibbled by mischievous mice or rats.

Anyway, to cut the grisly tail short, hey presto, we found the mouse, jumped on a vintage Ercol chair, the perpetrator had been literally caught in the act. We estimated via DNA / crime lab testing / guessing etc that this mummified criminal mouse has been trapped in his vintage plastic tortoise tomb about 25 years. Cruel. Priceless. Taking the Mickey Mouse. Vintage. I wonder what he’d fetch on eBay? Should I submit it for Frieze 2010?

The community mouse catcher

I'm going to write some show and tell shit here about the freaky mouse fearing family down the street who are completely shit scared of live mice, or too posh to pounce. Sorry Pete ---> You know how inappropriate I can be. Please don't sue me.

To save community embarrassment / neighbourly shame / fun poking at the local pub, let's just call him neighbour "P", knocked on my door and asked me if I would come over and catch a potentially murderous mouse - because he's seen me holding a mouse the other day on my doorstep (quite true, don't ask). I thought it was a fantastic rouse to get me out to the pub for a few beers. Nope. So after copious amounts of "Are you serious?" it transpired quite seriously they had a mouse in the house.

Quote neighbour "P" ---> "I'm a record producer, I don't catch mice" or something like that.

Anyway after cornering the harmless furry rodent they didn't want to touch the thing and they wouldn't let the cat at it. In the process they'd turned the conservatory (not just any conservatory mind) totally upside down - sofas, rugs, coffee tables, the whole designer works. All on its head. Really it was like a kids play room / earth quake. Unbelievable. Royalty. Anyway problem quickly solved. Offending mouse dutifully picked up and lobbed over the patio wall in to the orchard (not just any old garden). He'll be back mind, with his mates, guns and knives ---> See artist's impression above. I'm sorry I laughed in your faces and asked if you'd been taking LSD in front of the kids. Jeeesus. Pussies.

So if you're in a tight mouse hole / spot and nobody else can help you. Just send me a fax or call and I'll be straight over to catch your mouse and sort you out. 0800 MOUSE CATCHER.

UPDATE ---> Because every tale should have a meaningful ending and one or two morals. Here are my mousey tail's salient points; 1) It's great to know you have a special skill that the community can call upon, even just once in a lifetime and even if your special skill is mouse holding, it's well funny and great that people can call upon you in times of great need. 2) Protect the weak and love thy mice fearing neigbours. That'll do micely.

P.S. Note to self. Remind me to write and update on the great Damien Hirst art crime story, including The Telegraph art cock up of the century, and to let you in on Becks plans to roll my "Dicks" design as the new bottle label globally! See my amazing Dicks entry and @Becks_Beer 09/09/09 for the scoop.