This is the story of a mouse, a stash of chocolate, and a meter. One night, El Mouso decided to switch bedrooms, and take up residence in a closet- where he discovered a now-forgotten stash of liquor chocolates. He proceeded to eat THEM ALL, and leave the little bits of tin foil.
Do you know whats worse then a live mouse? A drunk, dead mouse. Put out some more sticky traps tonight. I hope that mouse dies of hypoglycemia.. I didn't even get to taste those chocolates!
The meter part (of this story) comes when the owner of the closet discovered the little bits of chewed up tin foil, shrieked, went up 50 points, and then tested.
At this point of the story, I should mention that I keep my alcoholic beverage stash in my closet. (closed containers, though!) Periodically, families of mice come to visit, (this is a farmhouse) and I put out traps and catch them. This might expain why I once discovered a dead mouse in my bed (when I got up in the morning). Maybe he got drunk, crawled into bed, and was summarily squashed.
I don't like mice.