Mouse dribbles

The wee beastie was squished flat with his belly facing me between two stacked tubs of bird food in the shed, like he'd been embalmed to forever make me guilty at a cruel death. I thought he was a goner for sure, crushed at the moment of reaching the holy grail of mousedom, peanuts on tap. Then he suddenly hunkered down to the bottom, casually grabbed some nuts, squeezed out and did an Avengers style leap off the back shelf into the spidery blackness where he knew I wouldn't dare follow. Closer inspection and the wee bugger has obviously been at it for weeks, peanut husks everywhere, and as what goes in must come out, mice poop everywhere too.