"What a Man, What a Man, What a Man, What a Mighty Good Man"

Here's how I know Eric is the one - such an awesome display of manliness.

We had a few memos last week about annual exterminations in the building. A few days later a new, more troubling memo said something about mice and "the problem getting worse for about two weeks before it gets better."

So my droogies, this filled my head with horrible thoughts of mice-rats and roaches dramatically death-marching around my apartment but I tried not to think about it. Until...the smell.
Eric and I came home on Friday and promptly declared, "It smells wierd in here." We independently came to a really gross conclusion-slash-guess: dead mouse in the radiator.
Eric slipped a note in the landlord's office. We figured we could hold out until Monday. About an hour later, the smell got exponentially worse, and I wondered aloud if we could open the radiator ourselves.
Eric retrieved his screwdriver and a ziploc bag, and I was being very helpful by reminding him to be careful while perched atop a chair halfway across the room. He opened the radiator, he coughed.

E: Step outside, I'll take care of this.
H: Oh my God! It really is a mouse?
(H steps outside, a minute passes, E pokes his head out of the door and shows me some tongs).
E: You weren't especially attached to these tongs, were you?

I wasn't. Eric told me to look away when he passed me in the hall to take the tongs and the dead-mouse-in-a-ziploc to the dumpster.
Eric told me the thing was "brown and squishy" and was definitely decomposing in our radiator.
Isn't that the manliest thing ever? I don't think I could ever do that. My hero.