How a mouse got me into The Westbury.

There is a reason why in every cartoon program the lady jumps on a chair when they see a mouse screaming.

I was sat on my bedroom floor when I saw a little brown dash. I knew what it was straight away and jumped on my bed. I stared under my desk where a brown head was poking out. I rang my brother, he was in a meeting and told me to catch it myself.

So I off I went to make a friendly mouse trap ( I knew that year supply of Lindt was going to come in handy.)

I stuck a bunch of cubes into a cardboard box and hoped for the best.

Anyway come Saturday the mouse hadn’t eaten my mint-chocolate Lindt bar but I hadn’t seen it so I assume it let itself out.

I went to meet mum for a drink as she just arrived into London, she was suppose to be staying with me in the flat after an evening Hendricks session but when I told her about our fluffy visitor she went slightly pale.

“ I am going to book a last minuet room here, do you want to crash in it?”

I sat back in my velvet chair in the Polo lounge, sipping on my tinned Mayfair cocktail

other hand filled with the complimentary salted walnuts..

“well, if you insist i suppose i coulddd” (a disney world firework show is happening inside)

boy did I milk it:

What’s this? Caesar salad delivery?

o and 90% of the time i wore this:

i just want to say thank you mouse. thank you.

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