Sometimes there should be a witness…

I have a mouse in my house again. I dealt with this a year ago too. When I resolved it that time I disposed of the intruder in the yard and thought, let this be a warning to the rest of you!! Apparently this mouse is a young adventurer who hasn't heard of my wrath. He's most active during the evening, which is when I decided to politely share a favorite snack, honey roasted peanuts. I allowed the quiet little mouse one peanut, free and clear placed on the floor. Enjoy it you little rascal because the next one, in the trap, will be your last!
The next morning I hear the usually nocturnal beast quietly munching away on something across the room. I'm busy so I decide not to hunt but instead try to shoo him away by stomping my feet. The chewing came to a halt, but I didn't see the perpetrator leave the scene. A few moments later the chewing resumes. Agghhhh… Since I know it's not long till he find the peanut buffet I can tolerate a little noise but geezzz, cut it out! In a fit of aggravation I grab the closest thing and chuck it across the room. With a very soft brush of the curtains the violently thrown finger nail file falls near the intended target who apparently took enough time to chuckle. Finally I've had enough and leap across the room where my first stop is the peanut meal I laid out the night before. I lift the curtain to find the peanut buffet gone. I could only imagine this was a Mission Impossible peanut extraction operation. Both the appetizer and the main course that had been delicately placed in the contraption have been removed with expert precision, leaving the jaws of the mouse trap wide open and clueless of their failure to act.
That's it! With a greater sense of determination I place one new peanut back in the trap with the alluring stickiness of peanut butter holding it on. No appetizer this time buddy!
In a continued effort to find the perpetrator I throw the curtains back to the left, no mouse. I climb on top of the chest and peer behind, no mouse. I step back on the floor and sweep the rest of the curtains off to the right and still no mouse! As I continue to ponder the whereabouts of the rodent I lightly brush a plastic bag on the floor. Suddenly the ferocious beast that's been lying in wait leaps forward in a fierce and threatening manner and darts across my barefoot as if to say "ha you foolish giant, where's the rest of my food!!"
I don't startle easily, but I will say someone in that room screamed like a little girl.