The Great War has ended. Pick up your glue traps, pull the blankets from the cracks in your doors, and please, stop trying to smuggle your cat into your dorm. We can all hear it through your shirt, Rachel. 

Last Fall semester was tainted by an invasion of mice, their occupation reaching from dorms to apartments to That Most Sacred of Places Where Mice Should Not Be, the cafeteria. Commuters laughed as residents squealed and set up futile barricades around their living quarters. Student Life held a town hall meeting in DeVries to discuss the situation, which according to eyewitnesses was attended by approximately three people. This is a shame, as this meeting quickly turned into a trial when campus security interrupted proceedings by leading a long, tiny chain of thousands of captured mice. The security guards involved refused to disclose their identities or methods, but made it clear that the mice had surrendered following the siege. Indeed, the mice had their tiny hands raised and were ready to admit to their crimes. 

“Guilt has weighed heavily on my heart,” said one mouse as it clutched the podium microphone in its aforementioned tiny hands. “Ever since I nibbled a third-year Jacobson resident’s toesies while she slept, I’ve felt filthy inside. That could also be from eating her nail polish, but still. It’s high time we make amends.”

“I don’t even know why I’m still here,” another mouse cried. “I mean, once you’ve tasted one Sodexo sweet n’ sour chicken ball, you’ve had them all. There’s no joy in living here when you can’t do anything but scurry from door crack to door crack. Once I flushed a Douglas toilet over and over again, just to feel something.”

One mouse came to the stand with a $20 bill crumpled underneath its arm. “I would like to let Brendan from Fraser know that I was the one who licked all the flavor dust off of his roommate’s Takis, not him. Once again, it was not Brendan. Brendan is completely innocent and would never, ever do such a thing.”

The mice then announced that they had ordered a Dairy Queen ice cream cake for the attendees. Written on the top in icing was, “We’re Sorry For Infecting Your Food With Diseases And Your Domiciles With Unspeakable Fluids.” 

In retribution, the mice volunteered themselves for custodial service around campus. If you still see mice behind your fridge or under your bed, don’t fret. They’re just keeping your buildings neat and tidy. Haven’t you always wanted a housekeeping service for your room? The mice all pinky-promised that they will not do anything on campus other than clean. They seem repentant enough, so show them some trust. Is a mouse eating your laptop charger? No way, it’s just holding a tiny vacuum. The mouse problem is solved, guys. Honest.