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The Hunt for Micky Mouse


ex70sHouston
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This morning was one of those wild and crazy mornings where I can't believe I was stupid enough to hire these people.

The story begins two weeks ago when some mice moved into the sheet metal shop. The guy in the shop came into the office and removed the pison that was out and moved that and some traps out into the shop.

In the past week we have heard that a little friend has moved into the office.

This morning we were starting the day off normally talking about what didn't get done yesterday and dispatching the service trucks.

O, what is that noise behind the book shelves? Suddenly there are four guys with sticks, knives, and one BB gun hunting for the mouse. The poor little Micky is trapped behind the last shelf. The BB gun is fired, it misses Micky bounces of a potted plant, bounces off a window and smacks a guy in the face. Then Micky trys for the door, as Charlie backs up so Micky doesn't go up his pants leg.............

He steps on him, which makes Michelle promptly loose breakfast.

O the excitement of a normal office.

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A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away......

I was working in an old office building that housed doctors offices/clinics at Indiana University Medical Center. My office was a tiny cubby with a window, an ancient desk, and a sink that made me think it was originally intended to be an exam room.

One morning I came to work, placed my sack lunch on my desk, next to a ripe, juicy tomato from my parents' garden. Someone called my name, and I exited my office, only to return in about five minutes to find a little bite chomped out of my tomato.

"Uh, I think there's been a mouse in here." I stated. I was told what number to call for maintenance to come out and trap the little tomato thief. I threw the tomato away, stashed my lunch in a safer location and went to work pulling charts, etc. My boss, a physician, came in with someone he wanted to talk to privately in his office, notified me not to disturb them, and closed his office door. Fine. I turned on my IBM selectric typewriter, the kind with the ball that bounces around typing letters. I started to type, but the little ball won't move. I poked it with a finger to see what's wrong, and A MOUSE JUMPED OUT OF MY TYPEWRITER, WANDERED ACROSS THE DESK, AND HID UNDER A BOOKHOLDER AT THE BACK OF THE DESK!

I don't remember how I got out of the office. I do remember running down the hall screaming for my boss, who, all semblance of a private conference gone, went into my office and stomped the mouse to death. Poor man hated mice and could hardly stand the thought of them, but he rescued his secretary just the same. Must've wanted those letters typed really bad that morning!

WG

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