Bloodthirsty Mousekiller STRIKES AGAIN!

So our landlord discovered we were illegally subletting our apartment and wanted to see Joe. Why do stressful things always seem to happen at night? He kept me up half the night worrying about it, insisting I start to look for a new apartment for us to move into, wondering if we should just leave for San Francisco. It turns out, the guy just wanted us to sign a subletting agreement and to raise our rent 10 percent. Phew! Not that I want to pay more, but it's better than moving.
A week or two later, of course, Joe discovers mouse poop in the kitchen. This apartment will be the death of me. Joe had his standard meltdown, I had mine, and then I managed to get him out of the house to give me time to kill it. Heh heh. In Brooklyn, I couldn't set snap-traps because of the dog, I couldn't put out poison, because of the dog. Well half the reason we had mice was because of that stupid dog. Bowls of dog food are like a China Buffet for mice. This time, I bought a bunch of snap-traps at the hardware store, baited them with stinky cheese, and left for work.
I got home from work 8 hours later (Joe was out for the night, thankfully). I went to the freezer, took out turkey burgers for dinner, and nearly plopped them right on top of a very, very dead mouse on our counter. Its head was collapsed by the trap. I jumped so hard I nearly dropped my burger. I'd forgotten I set the traps. Goodbye Fievel.
Tonight I will start blocking up any potential mouse-holes and will set out half a dozen traps over the weekend while we are at Joe's sister's house. When I am given free reign, no mouse can stand before me.
I should have been a War Queen. Why didn't that pop up on those aptitude tests I took in high school?