We named the mouse.
I insisted that we couldn't, because once we named it we could no longer kill it. But the subject persisted, and so we named it Chad. Because invading our apartment was really a d**k move, MOUSE CHAD, and have you ever met a great guy named Chad? Ok, but did you actually like him, deep in your gut? That's what I thought.
I just googled "d-bag names" and the first link gave me this.
Sidenote: Suits is my current favorite show. Thanks, optimized advertising; you really nailed it!
Anyway, now that Mouse Chad has a name, even a dirtbag name, I'll do everything in my power to protect him. No traps will be set; no cheese poisoned. I am like the Marshall Service of Mouse Chads.
Please don't let there be more than one Mouse Chad.
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