Bill had a conversation with a mouse
in the foyer last night. He told him he really should go out (as he opened the door for him); Otherwise, he would have to kill him. But the mouse just looked at him and scurried off to his corner. The creature should have taken heed, because Bill came home with new rodent poison today.
His fondness for mice began when he was a kid. A lady who rented from his father lived upstairs, and they couldn't figure out from where the mice were coming. This kept his mother busy setting traps, while Bill played with his little ships on an oblong rug. As mice scurried over the imaginary "water", he adopted them as his "passengers". Finally, when the nurse left the apartment, he and his dad went up to check and possibly, clean. The latter was a strong possibility, as the former tenant had stacks of garbage all over the house, none of which had been disposed during her entire stay. Mystery solved.
So there you have it; this is why he took the time to be polite to a mouse.
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