I love to cook. Especially when it comes to the grill or the smoker. I probably use my grill 3-4 times a week whether it is for chicken, steak, pork or fish and seafood. I think just about everything tastes better off the grill and that is where my story begins.

One evening, I went out to my grill to light it and get it ready to cook my dinner. The electronic igniter has been broke for a while so I have to light it with one of those lighters with the long handle. As I opened the grill, I jumped back. I caught a glimpse of a little gray field mouse. IN MY GRILL! The little bastard looked up at me when I opened the lid and hauled ass. It totally freaked me out.  He disappeared under my deck. Well a few days later, I had forgotten about it and went back out to my grill. When I opened the grill, there he was again. This happened about three more times. The third time, I tried to light the grill real fast but the little squeaker was faster than my lighter. Now I was starting to devise a plan that would eliminate this little bastard. Welllllll, one Saturday I had finished mowing the yard and I drank two or three beers. I looked at the clock and realized that it was dinner time. I started thinking about what to cook for dinner and what choices I had. Chicken was sounding pretty good at that moment so I decided to go get a shower and then start prepping for dinner. I got out of the shower, got dressed and went to the kitchen and cracked another beer and sucked it down. Damn it was tasting good. It was so hot out and the lawn kicked my ass so the ice cold beer went down really smooth. I got the chicken out and seasoned it and got out some veggies and grabbed another beer. I then grabbed my lighter and went out to fire up my gas grill when a little voice in my head, whenever I hear that voice it means trouble, said "GET THE MOUSE THIS TIME!". I walked outside and stopped in front of my grill. I stood there looking at my grill, I raised my beer to my lips and quickly sucked it down. I crunched the beer can and threw it over my shoulder and said out loud, anticipating that  the mouse would be there, Alright you little bastard, lets ROCK". I reached down to the gas knobs and turned all four of them on high. I left the lid down and let the gas run for about 30 seconds. I grabbed the handle and got my lighter ready. I opened the lid just enough to put the lighter in and strike it. DAMN! There was a small boom as the gas lit and blew the lid open burning all the hair off of my right forearm and my eyebrows and the hair on the front of my head, well it singed the hell out of it anyway. I opened my eyes and caught a glimpse of this little gray mouse whose fur was also on fire. He tried to get out through the top and realized it was too hot so he jumped down the way he always did and ran into the bushes. I stood there for a couple of seconds and saw smoke. Crap, the little gray fireball set the weeds on fire. I ran over to the hose and quickly soaked the bushes, extinguishing the possibility of losing my house and ending up in the newspaper with some of the funniest headlines ever. That little mouse got the last laugh but I have not seen him again. I got his ASS!

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