It was over. Sure, we could've go on, but without a weapon like the "Better Mousetrap", our success would've been limited to negligent mouse accidents--hardly effective.

The Better Mousetrap, which was last seen in the maintenance tent, hadn't been seen for a few days. Mystery of mysteries--where had it gone? The story went that a mouse got caught in it, but it didn't really get caught and the mouse took the mousetrap for a spin.

So now the mice were running around like they owned the place. They were pooping all over Jonah's stuff, eating our creamers, and poking out their heads whenever we played X-Box. They knew we were powerless.

As their numbers grew, they grew stronger as a whole but weaker individually. A balance would be reached. Their balance, not ours. The scale would probably balance in the mice's favor, even with our intervention. A war with Nature was a war man couldn't really win. Even with better mousetraps, we lost in the end. We could crush the weak mice all we wanted to, but were there ever another Saruman...no, I couldn't even think about it.