He is still here. He is very black. And not that small. He darts. He comes out at night while I'm watching TV. He is mildly aware that he is persona non grata around here. He is completely uninterested on the cheese that I deposited in the trap that promises to catch him and trap him painlessly (for me, not for him).
He could not care less about the cheese. He circumvents the cheese. He shuns the cheese.
My Sherlockian powers of deduction tell me that he probably smells the food when I choose to pig out in front of the TV set and he comes out and checks out what's in it for him.
What's in it for him my are my bloodcurling screams.
What's in it for me is I stand there and wield a broom to show him who's boss and insomnia.
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