A Small Dead Thing

This is disgusting. There is no getting around that fact. It's disgusting and revolting and any other word that makes the bile in your stomach churn. FH and I are doing work on his apartment so that I can move in (yay!). During the course of said remodeling, we began to notice an *ahem* odor. Is it the dog? Does he need a bath? Nope, the dog smells fine, well, he smells like dog, but he's supposed to. Is it the the garbage? No, the garbage is surpisingly non-offensive. We have no idea what it is.

Last night the smell went up a notch on the olfactory 'Scale of Noisomeness'... it's officially a stench. I come in to FHs place last night and see him and his brother walking from the living room to the kitchen sniffing determinedly. They believe a mouse has gone to its great reward possibly somewhere in the walls.
'You mean there's a small dead thing in this apartment!!' I shrieked. Affirmative. And we have to find it STAT!

Guess what my job is tonight while FH sheetrocks?