A huge man in gray coveralls entered the house.
"Who the hell is he?" Nathan squeaked in shock from his position atop the Chronivac unit. It was a position that, unfortunately, left him quite exposed to the giant stomping through the house in coveralls and heavy-duty work boots. Nathan's whiskers twitched convulsively as he read the name emblazoned in a red bulls-eye logo on the front of the huge man's coveralls. "Pest-Be-Gone Exterminators."
"Worst Christmas Eve ever," Nathan squeaked as he realized the man's reason for being inside his house.
Unfortunately, Brandon was a trained professional, and as such immediately heard the tell-tale squeaks of a mouse. His head pivoted and locked onto a small white mouse on the floor. For an instant, man and mouse stared at each other.
"Oh shit," Nathan squeaked and turned tail.
"This is your unlucky day, little pest," Brandon said. If he had been some bad-ass, he would have cocked his firearm. Instead he clutched the trigger for a tank of all-purpose pest spray strapped over his right shoulder.
Nathan's flight took him beneath the living room sofa. He imagined he had time to ponder his next action.
In the meantime...