I watched out of the corner of my eye.
The mouse scurried up the spaghetti sauce aisle.
A sharp right. Towards the woman wearing a pantsuit. She was comparing four types of alfredo. She should have worn tapered pants.
She tripped, falling hard. The mouse’s skull was crushed between the woman’s thigh and the floor.
I offered to help the woman up. I stood there with a hand out, holding back the chuckles.
Embarrassed, she ignored me.
The dead rodent body tumbled out of her pant leg as she stood back up.
Hearing the commotion, the store manager came over. “You’ve killed Squeakers!” he gasped.
I started snickering again.
The woman couldn’t manage to say anything but “Whaa…?”
The store manager scooped up Squeakers, a tear rolling down his face. “Oh no, oh no,” he cooed as he carried Squeakers away.
I fell over, rolling on the ground in laughter.