"And you are so old. What mouse in the XXI century is still wired?" said the monitor. The keyboard looked at the monitor with evil eyes.
"Kids! Behave, show good manners," said the computer.
A day in the office: mouse dragging, monitor blinking, keyboard smiling, and computer thinking. Tired, the old mouse literally dragged its non-existent feet to bed, I wish I was a Mexican tooth mouse*. At least they make kids happy. He thought.
*Equivalent to the tooth fairy, but not as hot.
His owner never cleaned him --dirty old mouse they'd said. With a few weeks left to live, old mouse decided to live at the edge. What could he do? Scratching his right button, he thought, I should become a F1 car racer, but I don't know how to drive... Can I climb a mountain? I don't think I have enough wire. Damn wireless mice! But he couldn't think of anything good, his scroll wheel spinned in a sign of despair. Time to go bed...
A new day: Mr. old mouse woke up with a big yawn -he slept soundly. Full of energy he did his morning exercises, "One, move the wire to the left, Two, to the right, Three, spin you wheel, Four, two button click." In better shape than ever, he waited to be used; his owner usually showed up around 11am --not the hardest worker in the office, if you ask me.
The melted clock, he believed Dalí designed him, yelled "11am".
"Are you guys ready?" Said the computer.
"Whatever Brainac," said the rest.
Señor Owner (he asked us to hide his super-secret identity) had a surprise in a box. What could it be? Everybody wondered and Don Owner put his hand inside and took something out: blue... glossy... shiny (glossy is shiny, isn't it?, duh, yeah?)... rectangular... sexy curves... Old mouse could not believe his eyes as the spanking brand new she-mouse flew in the sky.
"Hi, I'm Bluemousa."
"Hola Mamacita. I'm old mouse, but my friends call me old mouse," said old mouse blushing as his red light lit --his back read 'Made in Mexico.'
"Hi Ole' mouse. I'm sorry to tell you this, but"
"Whatever you say Mamacita. I'll do whatever you want, I'm your slave."
"Good! I'm glad. Now I can replace you without feeling bad."
"What the...? Who? You? But... but..." and Mr. old mouse couldn't talk anymore. Did the cat eat his tongue?
Yanked, his wire floated in the air and went to the floor. Old mouse cried, how could he be discarded is such an ugly way? Feeling sadder than ever, he jumped off the desk, but he didn't hit the floor: his wire connector got stuck between the keyboard and the monitor.
In the end he choked and died at the edge, just the way he wanted!
THE END
