A few years back now, I was living in Ireland. One weekend my Irish girlfriend stayed over after telling her very trad-Cath parents that she was staying at a girlfriends.
Friday night: We could here all this scratching and quickly discovered a family of mice
Saturday: I bought some traps, laid them; they went off snap, snap, snap. A couple of dead mice, one leg, one dead mouse missing one leg etc.
Sunday morning: We heard a noise in the kitchen, a mouse had caught its leg in the very efficient trap, and pulled the trap behind the cooker. My GF who was shit scared of rodents made me pull out the cooker in order to reach it. Gas ovens have week pipes, the pipe came loose, gas leek. As I put my thumb over the pipe, GF lit her lighter to enable me to see better (its dark behind ovens). Luckily, messiah lives, but the only person we knew that could fix a pipe (on a Sunday that is) was my GF’s father, I got one hell of a Catholic-parent (a.k.a. the devil) lecture, while still covering the pipe with thumb.
Sunday night: By some miracle (read cunning lie), GF stayed overnight. We heard a scratching in the bedroom, and a mouse ran over the bed. “Don’t kill it,” she said, (she forgot about the other 4 mice in mouse heaven), so I found a bowl and after some time trapped it under said bowl. Now what to do? I placed a lit cigarette (my GF’s) under the rim of the bowl for about 5 minutes, lifted the bowl and hey-presto one tiny-doped mouse. I heroically picked up mouse, took to field a kilometre away and released it. My conscience was clean, my carpet was burnt, and my landlord charged me 500 IRP for a new one.