The Loser is Home

The Loser's father got out of rehab yesterday and is back in his suburban house. Naturally, he doesn't think of telling the Complete and Total Loser this until he showed up to visit on the afternoon of the day the rehab people decided this, despite knowing the Loser is living in the house.

The rehabilitation center the Loser's father stayed in for three weeks.

He told the Loser's sisters-in-law, but not the Loser, who could've used advanced notice to clean up and pack his own stuff.

No matter how much time passes, the Loser still has problems accepting his role as the low man on the family totem pole. Meanwhile, the Loser, back in his grimy apartment, has found that the cold weather has driven mice inside, where they're making making themselves heard, rustling papers at night. He made a ridiculously easy trap out of an empty paper towel tube and a dab of almond butter:

A paper towel tube, a little peanut butter (or something like it), a trash can too deep for a mouse to jump out of and a rodent's lack of intelligence can make a simple yet effective trap.

The Loser, though he eats meat, cannot bring himself to poison or use kill traps on mice. It seems like a dirty trick on a creature not capable of any ethical wrongdoing on its part when it occupies his quarters. When he catches mice, the Loser stores them and sets them free a bike ride from his apartment, in a field. They probably become prey for area hawks, but at least they get a sporting chance. 

A mouse prepares to spend a night in an empty jar of clinged peaches.