Finish him off...

The last thing you want, when Utd have been just dumped out of Europe and you've spent a soggy night doing some *revolutionary* leafleting is to hear these sounds.

*SNAP*

*DU-THUD*

*WRITHING*

Initially I thought he was trapped in the jaws of the trap and was just having a few involuntary spasms but after a short while it became clear that the trap had not done it's job.

Somehow the mouse had been catapulted to the far side of the airing cupboard, perhaps when he initially wrenched the trap, and was lying castrate but not dead.

He wasn't going anywhere and he wasn't dead either.

I did the necessary.

In other news, I'm not liking my dreams much at the minute. Bizarre, vivid stories interlaced with familiar characters from real life but I really don't know what they're trying to say.