First released in 1963, this colourful, kooky trap was complex, but a set of blueprints on the game board made sure even the youngest players would be able to assemble their convoluted masterpiece.
You turn the *crank* – housed on *base 1* – to turn *cog 1* which meshes with *cog 2* which pushes the *stop sign*.
The stop sign springs back, by virtue of the rubber band (Which I don’t think was formally a ‘part’), and hits the *boot* dangling from the *lamp-post*.
The boot kicks the *bucket* at the top of the *rickety stairs* which contains a *ball-bearing* (officially a *metal ball*). The ball – whatever it is called – goes down the rickety stairs, and enters the *half-pipe* until it gets to the base of the *pipework*, housed on *base 2*.
There it hits the *helping hand*, which pushes the bottom of the *thing-a-ma-jig* (Yes, that is its formal name. It was just a device to trigger the *bowling ball*).
The bowling ball falls off the thing-a-ma-jig into the *bathtub*, and then through the (bloomin’ large) ‘plughole’ onto the end of the *seesaw*. The seesaw then fires the *man* (Always green, for some reason) into the *wash tub*.
The shaking of the *wash tub* shakes the rest of *base 3*, including the *pole* which had, at the top, the *cage*, causing the *cage* to fall . . . and trap the “unsuspecting mouse”!
Of course, the reality tended to be that you turned the *crank*, which shook the *board*, which made the *cage* fall.
Game over.
