An intensely bright light thrust beneath the sofa blinded Nathan's beady mouse eyes. Spotting the rodent huddled in place, Brandon grabbed using a glove-clad hand.
"SQUEAK!" Nathan reacted in panic at finding himself squeezed in the gloved fist. "No! This is a big mistake!"
Holding the little creature in his crushing grip, Brandon used his other hand to retrieve something from a pack that he slid off his shoulder and rested on the floor. Meanwhile, Nathan struggled to breathe in the tight grip. His little white whiskers twitched with nervous jerking.
With a deftness born of much practice, the pest control worker transferred the white mouse from his hand into a plastic specimen cage.
That the man did not immediately crush, stomp, or squeeze him to death came as an immense relief to the transformed teen, but he still needed to get out of the plastic prison.
"Please, I'm not a real mouse," Nathan squeaked. Through the transparent plastic floor of the container, he saw his Chronivac unit on the floor.
Brandon slid the cage back into his pack, giving it no more thought while he went about his official pest control maintenance for the Castille residence.
Once finished, he scrawled some information on a slip of paper that he detached and left on the kitchen table. The succinct information on the note consisted of "Found one mouse. Removed from premises."
Of course, a terrified Nathan had no knowledge of any of this. He simply knew that, without access to his Chronivac unit, he was mightily screwed.
As he finished his work, Brandon finally noticed the Chronivac. He reached to lift the unit off the floor. "Rather careless to leave this on the floor," he said, looking over the expensive-looking piece of technology. He placed the unit on the note he had left for the home owners.
Without further ado, he left for home.