Can You Rent Cats Part 2
There has been changes in my war against the mice. My disclaimer first, we ain't nasty(see part 1)!!!!! Here is the updated score sports fans.
Papa Joe - 1
Mice - 0
Here is the scoop. As of Thursday morning the mouse (I was hoping there was one at that time, more on that later) the mice were still laughing at me and my primitive traps but that was all about to change.
On Thursday afternoon I come down stairs into the living room and I see a mouse running at 100 miles an hour from my desk to the couch. I have to admit, it froze me. OK it scared me a little. Then I thought of my little daughter who has adopted Ralph as her pet mouse.
"If I let this go on she will turn out like Michael Jackson. Hanging out with Emanuelle Lewis, and going to school with silk pajamas and a Captain Kangaroo sport coat on."
This thought transformed me into Papa Joe. It gave me the strength to move forward. I had to take action. I decided to arm myself. I ran and got the broom. I to do it for little Michael. I took a deep breathe and slowly bent over to move the couch with one hand while I held the broom in the other. I had flashes of a vicious battle ahead of me but I bravely moved forward. I moved the couch.......Nothing. I moved the other end of the couch.....Nothing. I searched and searched.....Nothing. I had been outsmarted again. I could almost hear him laughing! "Papa Joe my ass!" he was saying.
I put my broom away and took a deep breath. "Whew, you know you was scared anyway." Good thing no one else saw you. They would have laughed.
After putting the broom away, I walked back towards the living room when my wife came downstairs. We were walking towards each other about 15 feet apart and she was starting to ask me a question when it happened.
"Baby, do you know where the..........." She went silent. She stopped midway between steps, one foot still in the air. She stopped breathing. I could tell because when she screamed, nothing came out.
There he was walking on the floor between us. Only this time much slower. Like he was trying to disrespect me. "I'm gon' scare you in front of yo' woman. Wit' yo punk ass!" he seemed to be saying.
I'm not gonna 'bitch up' in front of my woman. I started after him while my wife slowly (ok quickly) backpeddled out of the room and back upstairs. I chase him under little Michaels brand new potty. I say brand new so you don't think, "they got mice cause the baby is shittin' in the living room." So, brand new out of the box OK? It has a light down in the potty? I don't get that. Doesn't that encourage the baby to put her hand in the potty? Whatever, back to the story at hand.
He's under the potty plotting his next move. I am over the potty plotting mine. I know if I go for the broom he will be gone. I know that is what he is betting on. Being the ACE hunter I am, I improvise. I choose to continue to give chase. I will exhaust him. So I kick the potty, again clean empty brand new, and Ralph takes off like the wind. He is headed for the stereo speaker in the corner. He gets behind it before I can cut him off.
"It's over" I thought. I will just turn the speaker flush to the wall and crush him. Obviously, Ralph had seen this strategy before because as soon as I turned the speaker he took off again. This time through the dining room, I am giving chase furiously turning over chairs and tables in the process. No fear now, there is only adrenaline when you are in the heat of battle.
He turned left when he hit the hallway and I was right behind him. When he turned the corner he found that all three doors there were closed with no room to get underneath. He bumped his head as he tried to get under the final door. When he saw this would not work he decided to turn and face me.
There we were face to face. Two warriors in a battle for supremacy of this household. Mano e Mano. He snarled and flashed his fangs at me but I didn't budge.
"Be careful sweetheart, I love you!!!!" my wife said, "Is your life insurance paid up?"
"Don't hurt him Papa Joe" the baby cried out.
We stared into each others eyes. One waiting for the other to make a move. He went first, he charged me snarling. I armed myself by kicking my foot backwards. I had my Nike flip-flops on. This backwards kick flipped the shoe over my shoulder. I caught the shoe in my left hand and swatted downwards as Ralph lunged at my throat. He was down. It looked to be a broken hip or smashed pelvis because he was still trying to run but he was running in a circle on his side. Kinda, like curly from the 3 stooges used to do.
He knew it was over but he still had some fight in him. " He looked up at me and said, "What are you waiting on? Finish it!!!! You scared? Yea that's it you are scared.....Punk ass? I'm gonna get up outta here, get fixed up and I will be back to punk you again" Ralph said, "Wait till my boys get here, Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike" he called in a faint voice.
"Cool it now" I said, as I put the size 13 Nike flip flop on him with force.
I stood and savored the victory. I dropped the flip flop to the floor and raised my fists, "YES, I'm Papa Joe bitch!!!!!"
That's all I got!
I'm Out!
44Black
Papa Joe - 1
Mice - 0
Here is the scoop. As of Thursday morning the mouse (I was hoping there was one at that time, more on that later) the mice were still laughing at me and my primitive traps but that was all about to change.
On Thursday afternoon I come down stairs into the living room and I see a mouse running at 100 miles an hour from my desk to the couch. I have to admit, it froze me. OK it scared me a little. Then I thought of my little daughter who has adopted Ralph as her pet mouse.
"If I let this go on she will turn out like Michael Jackson. Hanging out with Emanuelle Lewis, and going to school with silk pajamas and a Captain Kangaroo sport coat on."
This thought transformed me into Papa Joe. It gave me the strength to move forward. I had to take action. I decided to arm myself. I ran and got the broom. I to do it for little Michael. I took a deep breathe and slowly bent over to move the couch with one hand while I held the broom in the other. I had flashes of a vicious battle ahead of me but I bravely moved forward. I moved the couch.......Nothing. I moved the other end of the couch.....Nothing. I searched and searched.....Nothing. I had been outsmarted again. I could almost hear him laughing! "Papa Joe my ass!" he was saying.
I put my broom away and took a deep breath. "Whew, you know you was scared anyway." Good thing no one else saw you. They would have laughed.
After putting the broom away, I walked back towards the living room when my wife came downstairs. We were walking towards each other about 15 feet apart and she was starting to ask me a question when it happened.
"Baby, do you know where the..........." She went silent. She stopped midway between steps, one foot still in the air. She stopped breathing. I could tell because when she screamed, nothing came out.
There he was walking on the floor between us. Only this time much slower. Like he was trying to disrespect me. "I'm gon' scare you in front of yo' woman. Wit' yo punk ass!" he seemed to be saying.
I'm not gonna 'bitch up' in front of my woman. I started after him while my wife slowly (ok quickly) backpeddled out of the room and back upstairs. I chase him under little Michaels brand new potty. I say brand new so you don't think, "they got mice cause the baby is shittin' in the living room." So, brand new out of the box OK? It has a light down in the potty? I don't get that. Doesn't that encourage the baby to put her hand in the potty? Whatever, back to the story at hand.
He's under the potty plotting his next move. I am over the potty plotting mine. I know if I go for the broom he will be gone. I know that is what he is betting on. Being the ACE hunter I am, I improvise. I choose to continue to give chase. I will exhaust him. So I kick the potty, again clean empty brand new, and Ralph takes off like the wind. He is headed for the stereo speaker in the corner. He gets behind it before I can cut him off.
"It's over" I thought. I will just turn the speaker flush to the wall and crush him. Obviously, Ralph had seen this strategy before because as soon as I turned the speaker he took off again. This time through the dining room, I am giving chase furiously turning over chairs and tables in the process. No fear now, there is only adrenaline when you are in the heat of battle.
He turned left when he hit the hallway and I was right behind him. When he turned the corner he found that all three doors there were closed with no room to get underneath. He bumped his head as he tried to get under the final door. When he saw this would not work he decided to turn and face me.
There we were face to face. Two warriors in a battle for supremacy of this household. Mano e Mano. He snarled and flashed his fangs at me but I didn't budge.
"Be careful sweetheart, I love you!!!!" my wife said, "Is your life insurance paid up?"
"Don't hurt him Papa Joe" the baby cried out.
We stared into each others eyes. One waiting for the other to make a move. He went first, he charged me snarling. I armed myself by kicking my foot backwards. I had my Nike flip-flops on. This backwards kick flipped the shoe over my shoulder. I caught the shoe in my left hand and swatted downwards as Ralph lunged at my throat. He was down. It looked to be a broken hip or smashed pelvis because he was still trying to run but he was running in a circle on his side. Kinda, like curly from the 3 stooges used to do.
He knew it was over but he still had some fight in him. " He looked up at me and said, "What are you waiting on? Finish it!!!! You scared? Yea that's it you are scared.....Punk ass? I'm gonna get up outta here, get fixed up and I will be back to punk you again" Ralph said, "Wait till my boys get here, Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike" he called in a faint voice.
"Cool it now" I said, as I put the size 13 Nike flip flop on him with force.
I stood and savored the victory. I dropped the flip flop to the floor and raised my fists, "YES, I'm Papa Joe bitch!!!!!"
That's all I got!
I'm Out!
44Black
posted by 44Black at 6:34 AM
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