I'd pick him up by the scruff of his neck with a pair of tweezers and drop him into an ant terrarium.
Maybe, if I was feeling charitable, I'd give him a few things to survive, a miniature tent - some lego bricks to build a shelter out of.
Like I was a god and he was bound completely to my every whim and fancy.
It'd be my personal hobby and private source of entertainment to come check on him every couple of days, see how he's faring fending off the oppressive hordes of ants.
Maybe I'd toss him in a few things - like a tiny plastic sword, or a hunk of bread-crust to ease his woes, a few seeds and a pair of ladybugs to get his farm started.
Or perhaps if he was doing too well, I'd play the oppressive force of nature, flooding his home or introducing massive spiders into the fray. It'd be wicked.