I’m always hearing people say if you build a better mousetrap, you’ll make a lot of money. After many hours of tinkering around and watching the sparks fly, I think I’ve finally nailed it!
The green fish-scented pellets are mouse poison. Mice love them! The only problem is they don’t eat the pellets, they carry them off for winter snacks when the snow flies. This leaves me with no bait to bring the next flock in. Maybe I should glue the pellets to the floor.
I stuck the pellets inside the mouse corral just to attract the mice. When the varmints enter or exit, I’m planning on them rubbing against the corral ring and no more mouse. I think 110 volts is enough to ground out the little buggers. Maybe I should install a mouse wash so they can be nice and wet before meeting their maker. That might be an added attraction that would bring even more of them in.
I think the warning sign is a good enough alert I won’t get sued. I guess I probably should check with Underwriter’s Lab and make sure I’ve got enough safeguards built into it.
I know the technical aspects of this device are far too complicated for the average person to comprehend. If you are familiar with electricity, you might just step back and study the picture for an hour or so. You just might catch the vision.
Just take my word for it. It works. One of the things I’ve noticed when I share my ideas with others is they always say “Why didn’t I think of that?!” I have no doubt this little baby will end up in that category.
If it appears by my high-classed and polished non-redneck inventions I’m making money, just remember looks can be deceiving. Over the years, many IRS agents have broke down in tears during audits when they realized I really truly wasn’t making any money.
I keep trying to come up with a break-out idea that will end my pauper’s existence. To tell you the truth, I’ve got two gizmos in the works that have great possibilities.
I won’t share them for the next month or so just to protect against knock-offs. I’m applying for patents on both.
My brother’s break out into guffaws whenever I say I’ve got “The One” just around the corner. Someday, they’ll be sorry.