This may be a descendant of the Seattle pigeon I refused to kill.
This may be a descendant of a Seattle pigeon I refused to kill back in 2006. Charles Mudede

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Regarding the mouse that Rich Smith stomped to death with his feet yesterday in our offices: Back in 2006, when I was killing and eating urban fauna in Seattle for the sake of an article called "The Urban Hunt," Stranger news editor Eli Sanders invited me to his Capitol Hill apartment to confront a problem.

An ill-looking pigeon had taken up residence on his fourth-story balcony and he wondered if I, the resident office killer, would do him a favor and ice it. As I recall, he was worried that that one sick pigeon would become a beacon to sick pigeons across the city and his balcony would soon be a crowded, shit-stained, sick-pigeon refuge. (As he recalls, he was worried that the poor thing was suffering unduly and needed to be put out of its misery.)

Either way, I suggested he make a box-nest for it and wait to see what happened. It recovered and flew away.

Anyway, if you find a mouse stuck in a glue trap—even I think glue traps are barbaric—there's a way to free it: olive oil.

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When I asked Rich if he knew about the olive oil option, he said he did. But he didn't want to walk a few blocks to get some olive oil at the store.

I'll let you decide what that says about his character.

This trumpkin is scary enough. Please vote.
Then score some dank herb from Ruckus to help with the stress.