Nov. 20th, 2012 12:41 pm
The mystery of the Poisoned Mouse
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muckefuckToday is Tuesday, which means another in our weekly series of pointless "training" sessions. Except, for once, this one wasn't so pointless. People actually (a) met with IT beforehand to make sure that the tech worked and they knew how to operate it and (b) solicited submissions so they could research them ahead of time instead of combing through documentation in front of us in real time. What a difference. (Of course, it leaves you asking, "Why the hell couldn't we have done this from the start?" but that's just slapping a gift horse in the face.)
What really made this session different, however, was an unexpected guest. So unexpected, in fact, I nearly stepped on him. If only I'd had a cameraphone he'd be getting dozens of Likes right now on FB, so adorable was he. Instead we gathered round and alternated between cooing and trying discern what was wrong with him. I mean, no sane healthy mouse stands right in the middle of a well-lighted doorway where there are lots of people and no food at all. The consensus was that rat poison was addling his senses.
Eventually, someone found a disposable water bottle to carry him away in, but until then there was a clumsy process of trying to scoop him up with paper and such which only drove him out of the hall and into the meeting room. My murophobic boss wanted him dumped in the toilet, prompting me to point out the horribleness of death by drowning. "Why don't you just waterboard him?" I asked.
What really made this session different, however, was an unexpected guest. So unexpected, in fact, I nearly stepped on him. If only I'd had a cameraphone he'd be getting dozens of Likes right now on FB, so adorable was he. Instead we gathered round and alternated between cooing and trying discern what was wrong with him. I mean, no sane healthy mouse stands right in the middle of a well-lighted doorway where there are lots of people and no food at all. The consensus was that rat poison was addling his senses.
Eventually, someone found a disposable water bottle to carry him away in, but until then there was a clumsy process of trying to scoop him up with paper and such which only drove him out of the hall and into the meeting room. My murophobic boss wanted him dumped in the toilet, prompting me to point out the horribleness of death by drowning. "Why don't you just waterboard him?" I asked.