The weirdest thing happened yesterday:
I went out to leave for work - opening the garage and feeding the chickens before I board my bike for the arduous five minute commute to work. When I opened the door, mice were in the chicken feed container and I caught them off guard. Two fell to the bottom of the bucket as I picked the bag of feed up and stranded them there so they could just maybe think about their actions. Two were nimble and spry.
The third (I'll call it The American) had so engorged himself on chicken feed that he could barely move across the bottom of the bucket. He looked like Augustus Gloop.
So I went to work, left the three of them there, and upon my return home found the spry one standing his fat, dead partner in crime - the little one reaching for the sky. I let the two go and threw the third gluttonous one in the brush pile. Life is fragile.