......Then she drives them a distance away before release.
Oh, I've got a story about that as well!
Before we moved here, we lived in a wee cottage in the woods. It wasn't quite made of gingerbread, but it might as well have been. Anyway, come the first frost in autumn, all the local woodmice invariably decided to move into our loft, which we couldn't prevent, due to the walls being made from
confectionery loose boulders.
Anyway, one summer, our neighbours invited us to a BBQ. Everything was going swimmingly until a stranger clocked me from across the garden. "It's you!" he exclaimed. "The bloke from the layby!".
"er, beg pardon?" I stuttered, somewhat stunned. "I see you every morning in the layby outside the village. It's only in autumn, and you're always stopped at the same time. You're not picking anybody up. You're not dropping anybody off. You're not even having a smoke." "It's been driving me insane for the past three years - what the hell are you doing there!?!"
"Oh, that's easy", I said. "I'm emptying our humane mousetrap".