December 20th
Dear Diary.....
Well another year has come and gone, and Christmas Eve is almost upon me.
Palace life has been winding down this last week before Christmas, and like the wood burner, things are gently ticking along, and get burnt. In fact just like the vegetables and vegetarian roast, and the mince pies we had last year! Well all I can say is that this year, the fire brigade are on standby. purrs
Time once more to think of presents and sending out the Christmas cards and arrange for delivery of the yule logs. After lasts years mistake, peep has made sure that this year the chef does NOT cover them in chocolate AND they are clearly labelled NOT for consumption! Who knew that sort of Yule log were for burning and not eating, who knew?
Anyways, after the visit to the dentist for dentures, peep put in place a new years resolution to eat less Yule Log, and better food less often, and what is actually needed rather than wanted.
All sounds very good I know, but I do rather think having one meal a day but making it last 8 hours isn't really in the spirit of a diet. And as for the eating better, well lets just say using cutlery to eat a pizza isn't quite what I had expected. On the plus side I don't get greasy finger marks on my fur!
PS. I wonder if Santa will come to visit this year, like last? I will be making sure all is in order for him, as I sure DO want to be in his good book, again......
December 21st
Dear Diary.....
Peep is being most annoying! Must I do everything! When I asked for Brussels sprouts I did not mean a pack of seeds! Oh well maybe I should just cancel Christmas? PS must make a note to check out scented candles.
December 22nd
Dear Diary.....
Christmas is still going ahead, despite the altercation with the Kraken the mailman and a box of Smoked mackerel. Who knew it could ever be shoved so far up, who knew? Not I for sure, nor the mail man. Mouses!
On the plus side, the seagulls in that tree got an early present. purrs
PS. Saints preserve me! I had to call in the Fire brigade today to rescue peep from top of our Christmas tree! Thankfully, having broken peep's fall from the chandelier, it sustained only minor damage and a few lost needles, which, once they have been extracted from various parts of the anatomy, peep will stick back on! Anyways the nice Firemen helped finish the decorations around the great hall and left with a mince pie and a whole mouse each for their trouble.
PPS They also promised to leave the fire engine outside so the flashing lights could add some Christmas sparkle. True hero's, every day.
On the plus side, the seagulls in that tree got an early present. purrs
PS. Saints preserve me! I had to call in the Fire brigade today to rescue peep from top of our Christmas tree! Thankfully, having broken peep's fall from the chandelier, it sustained only minor damage and a few lost needles, which, once they have been extracted from various parts of the anatomy, peep will stick back on! Anyways the nice Firemen helped finish the decorations around the great hall and left with a mince pie and a whole mouse each for their trouble.
PPS They also promised to leave the fire engine outside so the flashing lights could add some Christmas sparkle. True hero's, every day.
December 23rd
Dear Diary.....
Disaster has struck! Our radio broke and peep started to sing carols, despite the International Peace and Quiet Treaty. Mouses!
I saw For Sale signs going up in the village, which I wouldn't have minded, but for the fact they were advertising OUR Palace. Mouses!
I saw For Sale signs going up in the village, which I wouldn't have minded, but for the fact they were advertising OUR Palace. Mouses!
PS. RELIEF! An emergency supply of the Worlds BEST toffee has arrived from the worlds best Toffee Shop, in Penrith, Cumbria. Silence has been restored and For Sale signs removed.
PPS, Villagers sent gift of a years supply of toffee and fudge.
Note to self: Send thank you cards and suggestion that some single cream, for medicinal purposes, would be most welcome too.
PPS, Villagers sent gift of a years supply of toffee and fudge.
Note to self: Send thank you cards and suggestion that some single cream, for medicinal purposes, would be most welcome too.
December 24th
Dear Diary.....
EEEEEeeeeek! Squeeeak!
Dear Diary.....
EEEEEeeeeek! Squeeeak!
December 25th
Dear Diary.....
Well I never, that was quite an adventure! It all started......
OK, seems like everything's in order, and my pal Santa, the Big S, can get down the chimney without getting singed like last year. He was very decent about that, and I never got a cleaners bill, either!
Hmm, last minute check on stuff, and I'll be ready for my bed. Bowl of cream, CHECK. Mince meat pies that don't have meat, CHECK. Nuts, mixed but not crazy, CHECK. Niptini's, CHECK. 3 year old Extra Mature Canadian cheese, CHE.......
"Squeak!"
"Err.... pardon me, I seem to have a mouse in my throat...."
Squeak! Squeak-squeak!"
"Pardon me, again! I've heard of lunch repeating on you but this is ridiculous...."
"PST! Cat, Princess of ERin, over here!"
"What! Who me?"
"Well, is there anyone else who's a cat, princess, and called ERin with a capital E and R. Cats! Whats with all that ER anyways. Squeaks"
"Well I am a Princess, you know, and her Majesty Queen ER II has ER so I was guessing she is ERin too. Hmm actually that would be ERin II, too. In fact maybe I should be ER IN? But I digress, who are you, besides being....."
There before stood the most humongous mouse you ever did see, in fact it was a cat size mouse with all the trimmings, and not the usual nice trimmings such cream sauce and nip sprinkles, no ma'am, this one had large teeth and fairly interesting claws.
"You better pick that penny up, ERin, for as they say, look after the pennies and the pounds and dollars take care of them selves. Oh and you can close your mouth now. I mean you have seen a mouse before, according to my records last Tuesday in fact, for lunch was the last. Squeak"
"ER.... OK" I said as I slipped the penny into my waistcoat. "This is more than odd, and who are you anyway? AND why are you keeping tabs on my diet. AND you are huge! AND...."
"Enough already. Cats! I have never met a Princess with so many questions, you are a special one indeed. Santa was right about you and just as well I stopped time before I arrived. Anyways to answer your questions......"
"...... and that about wraps it up, oh and it is not I that is huge, but you ERin, that is small!"
Looking around it dawned on me that Michael Mouse, for that was his name, was right, but then he would be, as he was related to the Grammar Mice that visited my pals Nerissa, and his brother Seville, over in Canada.
"OK, I got the hint, what can I, Princess of Mouses, do for you, Michael? Seems like this is the strangest way of getting my attention, you guys not heard of email?"
"Of course we have! but we being the Special Predator Alert Mice Squad, have a bit of an issue in that regard, and most of our messages get mistaken for SPAM!"
"Hmm, I can see why. What you need is a filtter, like a cheese, nip, and cream filter. I have one for all my incoming mail! Anyways, what can I do for you, Michael. I'm guessing it has to do with.... er.... OK, you have me, what is it to do with?'
"Well we at SPAM are in need of some of your skill in the, um, Mousing Dept. You see we are overrun with mice!"
"Well if you don't mind me saying, you do rather have a reputation for... er... you know, like rabbits."
"Ahem, now that's the TUX calling a Zebra black and white. Cats! It is just how it is, and if YOU will keep leaving tasty kibble and cheese crumbs lying around! Anyway, I didnt stop time just to banter about nature, as I have a wife and 20 kids to feed, what I needs is for you to help sort out a problem!"
"Ah, now this is where I excel, if you don't mind me saying. I'm rather good at sorting stuff out, in between naps of course. What is it I can do, and how much are you paying? I mean, I don't work for nothing."
"Well I am not sure that is quite in the spirit of Christmas, ERin, and I have it in this here book of mine..."
At this point Michael, for that was his given name and it says in his contract that I have to say that at least five times, brought out from his fur jacket a large book not entirely unlike Santa's, just a lot smaller.
"Mouses! doesn't that chafe?"
"Not really, it has a lovely smooth feel, and shrinks ever so small when it is your pocket. Maybe one day you will get one yourself, ERin, but that has to be earned. Squeak"
"Oooh, that sounds like fun, will I get to.... Eeeek what the heck is that!"
"Ah, I was coming to that. THAT as you observe is the problem, a wireless mouse, or more accurately a rogue wireless mouse or RWM as we call them. Run for your nine lives!"
Well I didn't need to be told twice, I can tell you, no Ma'am, as that rogue wireless mouse flashed and clicked it's way across the Palace stone floors, its laser tracker scorching the surface as it passed.
"Over here, quick, behind the skirting board!" Michael shouted, for that was also his name when shouted, as he jumped headlong into what seemed an impossibly small and pencil wide crack, and vanished from sight.
"Really you expect me to......"
But before I could utter another word a I was sucked into the hole, and all went quiet. Well when I say quiet it was, all bar the sound of the laser emanating from the wireless mouse burning a track across the skirting where mere microseconds before we had stood!
"Um.... can you smell something burning?" I asked Michael. And turning to view myself in a conveniently placed dressing mirror hanging on the inside of the skirting, I saw a thread of smoke rise from the singed hair around my ear.
"Wow! that was close, just as well I never had those ear extensions fitted. Mouses! It meant business, for sure. Tell me, Michael, why haven't I come across these things before? Well the errant homicidal cat and mouse killing kind that is, my own wireless mouse, Pinky, is most polite. purrs"
Michael proceeded to tell me all about how these rogue wireless mice, or RWM, had come from the land of the Metric Mice, whom I met on my very first adventure, which I called Erinson Crusoe.
It seems like they hadn't forgotten about me after all, and had been trying to find a way into this world by slipping into the void between theirs and ours.
Basically they used a standard time travel trans dimension hop, only this time things went wrong. Somehow, through temporal distortion caused by peep blowing up the microwave trying to heat mince pies, they arrived too early in this worlds development of computer peripherals, and where they actually arrived was the void between my palace walls, and at a size akin to a very large and rotund mouse.
Now had they arrived on time and IN the Palace, disaster would have befallen humanity, for sure. Clearly there was no way peep or I could lay on a welcome feast for that number of annoying laser toting guests at short notice, and a huge diplomatic row and destruction of all humanity would have ensued, not to mention the loss of my cream vault. Mouses!
Anyways, thwarted in their efforts, the initial invaders had to stay connected to the computers to draw power, hence the long leads. BUT, their time had come with the advent of Wi-Fi and rechargable batteries, and the mice went global. They have been gradually sucking all the mains electricity from the Palace mains electricity supply through the optical connection on their undersides. Mouses!
"So, all those little glitches and computer bugs, the random movement of the cursor when you aren't using the mouse, that's them?"
"For sure, ERin, and it doesn't stop there either. We have intel that they are planning to take over The Houses of Parliament, here in the UK, The Canadian Parliament, and maybe even The White House! All through on line voting and photo shopping candidates hair do's!"
"Wow, these... er... things, sure do have a power complex. And it is all happening from right here?"
"Yup."
"In MY Palace?"
"Yup, for sure."
"Behind and under my very paw? on my desk?"
"Absolutely, even in the Palace attics. What you thought were actual mice were RWM!"
"Mouses!They've not got into the cream supply too, have they? That just would be too much."
"Nope you're OK on that one, but it can only be a matter of time. For some reason they don't seem to like some of the rooms in the Palace the Pantry and Cream Vault actually, and steer clear of them. We are hoping that we can find out what it is, and create, distill a virus to knock them out once and for all.''
"Hmm, I wonder why? I mean, if it's the strong room where we keep peeps shoes, or the dirty hosiery room, I could understand, but the pantry and the cream vault? I think we better go have a look. Besides, I'm getting a bit peckish. purrs"
Glancing at Michael, I added "NOT for a Mouse." Michael cast me a wry smile and rolled his whiskers in a nonchalant manner akin to a certain Mr Bond peep.
"Maybe in your former days, ERin, but I'd like to see you try now, I'm a brown belt in Mousjitsu after all, and you are only four inches long, and NOT in the best of shape either. You really do need to cut back on that cream cheese surprise pizza!"
"Well I was rather getting bored with that as there never a surprise, just the same old same old.... Hang on, have you been spying on me?"
"Well, it does pay to know thy enemy, as they say, and your allies."
"Hmm. Well I suppose you're right, but I do expect you to respect my privacy, I mean a lady needs to have a bit of personal space, bath time and all, the daily ablutions and what not."
"Fear not ERin, you are more than safe in our hands."
With that Michael gave me a wink and turned and lead me through a myriad of passages to a point not un-akin to the control centre at Bionic Basil's secret bunker HQ.
'Mouses!' I exclaimed, "this is high tech stuff in deed, how can you afford all this kit when peep and I only have an apple and a coffee maker to share between us?"
"Well suffice to say that if I told you I'd have to keep you here. But lets just say, we have friends high up, and I don't mean the Pigeon Pete who lives on the West Wing turret's weather vane, he's FBI."
"What! The USA is swivelling on my turret! No wonder that poor cockerel looks worn out!"
"NO, Pete's a Freelance Bird Investigator, we use them sometimes, aerial surveillance, dropping bugs on folk, that sort of thing. Actually, Marvin the mole was FBI, well was until a certain Princess blew his cover. You're a very high maintenance Princess, you know, in fact we almost blew a whole years supply of agents keeping tabs on you during the October Mouse Fest!"
"Ooops, sorry about that, change of the seasons and all, just can't help myself, and never could turn up the opportunity of Mole in the Hole, one of my favourite meals, that and Mouse Surprise. Well technically it's called Surprise the Mouse, but it's great fun..... Ahem, OK, best we get off the subject of food... er... agents. Tell me, whats the plan?"
"Well ERin I was rather hoping YOU would come up with that, after all, YOU are or were, The Shadow!"
"WHAT?"
"The Shadow, mistress of the fast claw draw, avenger of evil, protector of the innocent, and devourer of fine cream?"
"Oh, THAT The Shadow! Absolutely NOT me, no ma'am you have me confused with another Erin. Ask Santa, he'll vouch for how good I've been."
"Um, I did ask Santa, and that's one of the reasons he sent me to see you. Now, Erin, just because you have turned a new leaf doesn't mean you can't go back and revisit that last chapter. This is an emergency and your country needs you.... the world needs you, and if not that, just think what will happen to all your cream if they crack the code to your cream vault!"
"Look, Michael, what I did as a cold hearted assassin, with a heart of gold, is behind me. I have responsibilities, a family. Of one maybe, but do you know how much work that can be? Ordering the laundry staff around, fetching food and cleaning up at all unreasonable hours in the morning and evening. Not forgetting my new role as Chair on the Orphaned and Disabled Mouse Association. Oh and managing a well stocked cream and cheesery!" Anyways, what makes you think this clearly overweight Princess has it anymore, huh?"
Before Michael could utter a response, an explosion rocked the skirting board, sending plaster, dust and splinters everywhere. Bare cables sparked, the emergency flashing red lights came on, and a siren wailed through the passages all around. Beside me, Michael had regained his feet and was barking out, sorry squeaking out orders to those mice that were still standing. Turning, he shouted for me to follow, and without a further look he scurried from the room down a slope, which I guessed ran the length of the Palace staircase.
"What the mouses is going on?" I protested. "This cant be happening, we don't do explosions, well only on Fridays when peep is cooking. And where are we going, surely we need to get the fire brigade and police involved, and who's going to pay for all this damage?"
Michael didn't turn, or answer my question, he just picked up the pace and then disappeared around a corner. I paused and caught my breath. Checking the sign, it said This way to Arsenal. "Strange" I muttered, "I never knew the English football team had booked a room, best check the booking on that in case I need to get catering in. purrs."
"It's not a football team, you ninny, it's where we keep all the weapons, the new Mouser fully programmable Auto Rifle, and top secret secrets, you know, like your secret identity, ERin!"
Turning, I saw Michael, but not the mouse of moments before. Now he was dressed in a flack jacket and baseball cap, each emblazoned with the letters S.P.A.M. I made a mental note that if I escape this situation, I'd get the guy an appointment with a new tailor, and design team!
"Mouser rifles? don't you mean Mauser?"
"No, these are an upgrade especially for SPAM operatives... whisker triggers and the latest Smell Targeting System. Just select your target using a digital display and fire. The shells, made of especially tempered Nine year old extra mature Cheddar, once fired sniff their way to their target.
"Come on Erin, get that pretty tail of yours into gear, your old kit is just down there, we had it especially reduced, and then taken out to allow for, shall we say, a degree of settlement. Anyways its all good to go. We had your spare steel tipped claws sharpened too, just in case. Oh and we updated your utility belt, you now have...."
Another explosion, louder than before, rocked the small room sending the various weapons that had adorned the walls clattering to the floor. No sooner than the dust and the 0.9 millimetre Mouser automatic rifles had settled, a further shell exploded and sent us both and the contents of the room slamming into the wall. A searing light cut through the dust, seemingly searching for something. I knew instantly this was not one of those moments for a nap to think about things.
Turning, I saw Michael lay injured on the floor not far from me.
"Michael, you OK? We need to get moving and fast!"
"I'll not make it far, I've dislocated my knee and I think my tail is broken. You head off and save yourself I'll draw them away. Head down that tunnel, turn right and you'll come out behind the Grand Father clock. Jump inside and take the lift down to the floor and head for the pantry and SPAM HQ."
"You're set up in the pantry? No wonder my cheese has holes in it. It took it back to the cheese monger and complained she'd sent Gruyere. MOUSES!"
"Ahem, mind your language please, and you can't expect us not to eat cheese can you, especially if it was that very nice 3 year old Canadian Special Reserve, that Seville sent you! Do pass on my regards by the way and tell him that we have the Weasel syndicate under surveillance should they try another of their hair brained schemes to get at him when he flies in to receive his peerage."
"You know Seville?"
Michael raised an eyebrow and gave a slight smile and mused to himself 'Oh here we go, Santa said we would probably have this conversation, like last year.'
"Yup, sure do!"
"My pal Seville?"
"Yup."
"Seville in Canada, the famous blogger and all round Gentlecat?"
"Yup."
"Inventor of Whisk Time Travel Technology, patented throughout the world and in ALL of the nine cat kingdoms?"
"Absolutely! AND before you ask the next 3 questions, the answer is ..... Actually I don't know, but Santa said to tell you not to be nosy!"
"OH, well no harm in asking. But as to this Knighthood does he know yet, Seville, is it secret, I mean can I say anything?"
"Well no, not yet as it's not been finalised, but his name is on the list, along with another pal of yours, Basil, for services rendered, daring deeds and what not as it were, to the Crown and Commonwealth in times past and times to come. These things, ERin, do not go unnoticed in the corridors of power, or in deed behind the skirting boards and thrones in Buckingham Palace. It's not just Santa we work for you know!"
"But what about...."
"Enough already, ERin! Santa wasn't wrong when he said you were verbose. Cats!"
"Umm, I'm not entirely comfortable with being associated with a set of Hi-Fi equipment, but I suppose at least it was an expensive brand! purrs"
Michael groaned, not least from that last pun, and grasped the muzzle of one of the Mouser riffles that had been thrown against the wall. Hauling himself up, riffle butt under his shoulder, he stared at me, then grinned.
"You know, if I didn't know better I would think that you are beginning to like this new life of yours, being the Princess in the Palace. Come on, shake out of it! We have a world to save and about another 10 minutes before the RWM have used up all the electricity your peep loaded in the slot meter and the Palaces power supply shuts down exposing fusion core of the back up CCR, thats CreamCheeseReactor to you. If that goes there will be melt down, and I don't need to tell you how messy that could get! Cats!"
"Eww! That sounds worse than one of peeps home made pizza! Hang on, We have a backup reactor? I never even knew we had a non backup. Mouses! What happened to the main non backup, and why wasn't I informed we had such a device? I really do need to know these things in case the Council want to charge extra on the Palace taxes and not least because peep is likely to think it was a microwave and try and cook supper in it!"
"Fear not, the main reactor was the oven, and we all know your peep can't cook, so we were on safe ground disguising it as that. Alas what we hadn't figured on was peep trying to dry out the family of spiky Hedgehogs the Kraken found adrift in the moat. Those quills shorted out the reactor quicker than you pouncing on a Niptini cream liqueur!"
"So, wheres the back up then? I asked, I can't recall seeing a glowing reactor lying around the Palace anywhere."
"That was the brilliance of it, we found the only place that your peep never goes, ever!"
"What, the vacuum cleaner cupboard!"
"OK, the second place that your peep never goes!"
"Ahh! cunning that. Small enough to not arouse suspicion and always by a power outlet. Brilliant, there is no way peep would ever use that ever. Absolutely abhors irons and ironing."
"Right, well, no point you wasting time chatting, Michael, lets crack on with it. For Queen and country and the world, not to mention Santa's good book that I really do want to be in! Oh, and for my cheese and cream vault. I shall sally forth from this er... secret bunker and do battle with this heinous foe. Umm, do you have a sally by any chance? Needn't be the forth, a fifth would do? Anyone?"
"Your on your own, kid." Michael said, and with that he saluted me and turned and hobbled off in the other direction.
"You know what, no one is ever going to believe this. Mouses!"
PPPS. NO Terms and Conditions apply, though sitting down with a Niptini and a plate of cookies and cream dip does add to the experience, so long as your NOT driving at the time. Mouses!
Dear Diary.....
Well I never, that was quite an adventure! It all started......
****** 12 Hours earlier, in the Palace Great Hall ******
Hmm, last minute check on stuff, and I'll be ready for my bed. Bowl of cream, CHECK. Mince meat pies that don't have meat, CHECK. Nuts, mixed but not crazy, CHECK. Niptini's, CHECK. 3 year old Extra Mature Canadian cheese, CHE.......
"Squeak!"
"Err.... pardon me, I seem to have a mouse in my throat...."
Squeak! Squeak-squeak!"
"Pardon me, again! I've heard of lunch repeating on you but this is ridiculous...."
"PST! Cat, Princess of ERin, over here!"
"What! Who me?"
"Well, is there anyone else who's a cat, princess, and called ERin with a capital E and R. Cats! Whats with all that ER anyways. Squeaks"
"Well I am a Princess, you know, and her Majesty Queen ER II has ER so I was guessing she is ERin too. Hmm actually that would be ERin II, too. In fact maybe I should be ER IN? But I digress, who are you, besides being....."
****** Sound of penny dropping ******
"EEEEEEK!"
There before stood the most humongous mouse you ever did see, in fact it was a cat size mouse with all the trimmings, and not the usual nice trimmings such cream sauce and nip sprinkles, no ma'am, this one had large teeth and fairly interesting claws.
"You better pick that penny up, ERin, for as they say, look after the pennies and the pounds and dollars take care of them selves. Oh and you can close your mouth now. I mean you have seen a mouse before, according to my records last Tuesday in fact, for lunch was the last. Squeak"
"ER.... OK" I said as I slipped the penny into my waistcoat. "This is more than odd, and who are you anyway? AND why are you keeping tabs on my diet. AND you are huge! AND...."
****** Some time later ******
"Enough already. Cats! I have never met a Princess with so many questions, you are a special one indeed. Santa was right about you and just as well I stopped time before I arrived. Anyways to answer your questions......"
****** Yet more time later ******
"...... and that about wraps it up, oh and it is not I that is huge, but you ERin, that is small!"
Looking around it dawned on me that Michael Mouse, for that was his name, was right, but then he would be, as he was related to the Grammar Mice that visited my pals Nerissa, and his brother Seville, over in Canada.
"OK, I got the hint, what can I, Princess of Mouses, do for you, Michael? Seems like this is the strangest way of getting my attention, you guys not heard of email?"
"Of course we have! but we being the Special Predator Alert Mice Squad, have a bit of an issue in that regard, and most of our messages get mistaken for SPAM!"
"Well we at SPAM are in need of some of your skill in the, um, Mousing Dept. You see we are overrun with mice!"
"Well if you don't mind me saying, you do rather have a reputation for... er... you know, like rabbits."
"Ahem, now that's the TUX calling a Zebra black and white. Cats! It is just how it is, and if YOU will keep leaving tasty kibble and cheese crumbs lying around! Anyway, I didnt stop time just to banter about nature, as I have a wife and 20 kids to feed, what I needs is for you to help sort out a problem!"
"Ah, now this is where I excel, if you don't mind me saying. I'm rather good at sorting stuff out, in between naps of course. What is it I can do, and how much are you paying? I mean, I don't work for nothing."
"Well I am not sure that is quite in the spirit of Christmas, ERin, and I have it in this here book of mine..."
At this point Michael, for that was his given name and it says in his contract that I have to say that at least five times, brought out from his fur jacket a large book not entirely unlike Santa's, just a lot smaller.
"Mouses! doesn't that chafe?"
"Not really, it has a lovely smooth feel, and shrinks ever so small when it is your pocket. Maybe one day you will get one yourself, ERin, but that has to be earned. Squeak"
"Oooh, that sounds like fun, will I get to.... Eeeek what the heck is that!"
"Ah, I was coming to that. THAT as you observe is the problem, a wireless mouse, or more accurately a rogue wireless mouse or RWM as we call them. Run for your nine lives!"
Well I didn't need to be told twice, I can tell you, no Ma'am, as that rogue wireless mouse flashed and clicked it's way across the Palace stone floors, its laser tracker scorching the surface as it passed.
"Over here, quick, behind the skirting board!" Michael shouted, for that was also his name when shouted, as he jumped headlong into what seemed an impossibly small and pencil wide crack, and vanished from sight.
"Really you expect me to......"
But before I could utter another word a I was sucked into the hole, and all went quiet. Well when I say quiet it was, all bar the sound of the laser emanating from the wireless mouse burning a track across the skirting where mere microseconds before we had stood!
"Um.... can you smell something burning?" I asked Michael. And turning to view myself in a conveniently placed dressing mirror hanging on the inside of the skirting, I saw a thread of smoke rise from the singed hair around my ear.
"Wow! that was close, just as well I never had those ear extensions fitted. Mouses! It meant business, for sure. Tell me, Michael, why haven't I come across these things before? Well the errant homicidal cat and mouse killing kind that is, my own wireless mouse, Pinky, is most polite. purrs"
Michael proceeded to tell me all about how these rogue wireless mice, or RWM, had come from the land of the Metric Mice, whom I met on my very first adventure, which I called Erinson Crusoe.
It seems like they hadn't forgotten about me after all, and had been trying to find a way into this world by slipping into the void between theirs and ours.
Basically they used a standard time travel trans dimension hop, only this time things went wrong. Somehow, through temporal distortion caused by peep blowing up the microwave trying to heat mince pies, they arrived too early in this worlds development of computer peripherals, and where they actually arrived was the void between my palace walls, and at a size akin to a very large and rotund mouse.
Now had they arrived on time and IN the Palace, disaster would have befallen humanity, for sure. Clearly there was no way peep or I could lay on a welcome feast for that number of annoying laser toting guests at short notice, and a huge diplomatic row and destruction of all humanity would have ensued, not to mention the loss of my cream vault. Mouses!
Anyways, thwarted in their efforts, the initial invaders had to stay connected to the computers to draw power, hence the long leads. BUT, their time had come with the advent of Wi-Fi and rechargable batteries, and the mice went global. They have been gradually sucking all the mains electricity from the Palace mains electricity supply through the optical connection on their undersides. Mouses!
"So, all those little glitches and computer bugs, the random movement of the cursor when you aren't using the mouse, that's them?"
"For sure, ERin, and it doesn't stop there either. We have intel that they are planning to take over The Houses of Parliament, here in the UK, The Canadian Parliament, and maybe even The White House! All through on line voting and photo shopping candidates hair do's!"
"Wow, these... er... things, sure do have a power complex. And it is all happening from right here?"
"Yup."
"In MY Palace?"
"Yup, for sure."
"Behind and under my very paw? on my desk?"
"Absolutely, even in the Palace attics. What you thought were actual mice were RWM!"
"Mouses!They've not got into the cream supply too, have they? That just would be too much."
"Nope you're OK on that one, but it can only be a matter of time. For some reason they don't seem to like some of the rooms in the Palace the Pantry and Cream Vault actually, and steer clear of them. We are hoping that we can find out what it is, and create, distill a virus to knock them out once and for all.''
"Hmm, I wonder why? I mean, if it's the strong room where we keep peeps shoes, or the dirty hosiery room, I could understand, but the pantry and the cream vault? I think we better go have a look. Besides, I'm getting a bit peckish. purrs"
Glancing at Michael, I added "NOT for a Mouse." Michael cast me a wry smile and rolled his whiskers in a nonchalant manner akin to a certain Mr Bond peep.
"Maybe in your former days, ERin, but I'd like to see you try now, I'm a brown belt in Mousjitsu after all, and you are only four inches long, and NOT in the best of shape either. You really do need to cut back on that cream cheese surprise pizza!"
"Well I was rather getting bored with that as there never a surprise, just the same old same old.... Hang on, have you been spying on me?"
"Well, it does pay to know thy enemy, as they say, and your allies."
"Hmm. Well I suppose you're right, but I do expect you to respect my privacy, I mean a lady needs to have a bit of personal space, bath time and all, the daily ablutions and what not."
"Fear not ERin, you are more than safe in our hands."
With that Michael gave me a wink and turned and lead me through a myriad of passages to a point not un-akin to the control centre at Bionic Basil's secret bunker HQ.'Mouses!' I exclaimed, "this is high tech stuff in deed, how can you afford all this kit when peep and I only have an apple and a coffee maker to share between us?"
"Well suffice to say that if I told you I'd have to keep you here. But lets just say, we have friends high up, and I don't mean the Pigeon Pete who lives on the West Wing turret's weather vane, he's FBI."
"What! The USA is swivelling on my turret! No wonder that poor cockerel looks worn out!"
"NO, Pete's a Freelance Bird Investigator, we use them sometimes, aerial surveillance, dropping bugs on folk, that sort of thing. Actually, Marvin the mole was FBI, well was until a certain Princess blew his cover. You're a very high maintenance Princess, you know, in fact we almost blew a whole years supply of agents keeping tabs on you during the October Mouse Fest!"
"Ooops, sorry about that, change of the seasons and all, just can't help myself, and never could turn up the opportunity of Mole in the Hole, one of my favourite meals, that and Mouse Surprise. Well technically it's called Surprise the Mouse, but it's great fun..... Ahem, OK, best we get off the subject of food... er... agents. Tell me, whats the plan?"
"Well ERin I was rather hoping YOU would come up with that, after all, YOU are or were, The Shadow!"
"WHAT?"
"The Shadow, mistress of the fast claw draw, avenger of evil, protector of the innocent, and devourer of fine cream?"
"Oh, THAT The Shadow! Absolutely NOT me, no ma'am you have me confused with another Erin. Ask Santa, he'll vouch for how good I've been."
"Um, I did ask Santa, and that's one of the reasons he sent me to see you. Now, Erin, just because you have turned a new leaf doesn't mean you can't go back and revisit that last chapter. This is an emergency and your country needs you.... the world needs you, and if not that, just think what will happen to all your cream if they crack the code to your cream vault!"
"Look, Michael, what I did as a cold hearted assassin, with a heart of gold, is behind me. I have responsibilities, a family. Of one maybe, but do you know how much work that can be? Ordering the laundry staff around, fetching food and cleaning up at all unreasonable hours in the morning and evening. Not forgetting my new role as Chair on the Orphaned and Disabled Mouse Association. Oh and managing a well stocked cream and cheesery!" Anyways, what makes you think this clearly overweight Princess has it anymore, huh?"
Before Michael could utter a response, an explosion rocked the skirting board, sending plaster, dust and splinters everywhere. Bare cables sparked, the emergency flashing red lights came on, and a siren wailed through the passages all around. Beside me, Michael had regained his feet and was barking out, sorry squeaking out orders to those mice that were still standing. Turning, he shouted for me to follow, and without a further look he scurried from the room down a slope, which I guessed ran the length of the Palace staircase.
"What the mouses is going on?" I protested. "This cant be happening, we don't do explosions, well only on Fridays when peep is cooking. And where are we going, surely we need to get the fire brigade and police involved, and who's going to pay for all this damage?"
Michael didn't turn, or answer my question, he just picked up the pace and then disappeared around a corner. I paused and caught my breath. Checking the sign, it said This way to Arsenal. "Strange" I muttered, "I never knew the English football team had booked a room, best check the booking on that in case I need to get catering in. purrs."
"It's not a football team, you ninny, it's where we keep all the weapons, the new Mouser fully programmable Auto Rifle, and top secret secrets, you know, like your secret identity, ERin!"
Turning, I saw Michael, but not the mouse of moments before. Now he was dressed in a flack jacket and baseball cap, each emblazoned with the letters S.P.A.M. I made a mental note that if I escape this situation, I'd get the guy an appointment with a new tailor, and design team!
"Mouser rifles? don't you mean Mauser?"
"No, these are an upgrade especially for SPAM operatives... whisker triggers and the latest Smell Targeting System. Just select your target using a digital display and fire. The shells, made of especially tempered Nine year old extra mature Cheddar, once fired sniff their way to their target.
"Come on Erin, get that pretty tail of yours into gear, your old kit is just down there, we had it especially reduced, and then taken out to allow for, shall we say, a degree of settlement. Anyways its all good to go. We had your spare steel tipped claws sharpened too, just in case. Oh and we updated your utility belt, you now have...."
Another explosion, louder than before, rocked the small room sending the various weapons that had adorned the walls clattering to the floor. No sooner than the dust and the 0.9 millimetre Mouser automatic rifles had settled, a further shell exploded and sent us both and the contents of the room slamming into the wall. A searing light cut through the dust, seemingly searching for something. I knew instantly this was not one of those moments for a nap to think about things.
Turning, I saw Michael lay injured on the floor not far from me.
"Michael, you OK? We need to get moving and fast!"
"I'll not make it far, I've dislocated my knee and I think my tail is broken. You head off and save yourself I'll draw them away. Head down that tunnel, turn right and you'll come out behind the Grand Father clock. Jump inside and take the lift down to the floor and head for the pantry and SPAM HQ."
"You're set up in the pantry? No wonder my cheese has holes in it. It took it back to the cheese monger and complained she'd sent Gruyere. MOUSES!"
"Ahem, mind your language please, and you can't expect us not to eat cheese can you, especially if it was that very nice 3 year old Canadian Special Reserve, that Seville sent you! Do pass on my regards by the way and tell him that we have the Weasel syndicate under surveillance should they try another of their hair brained schemes to get at him when he flies in to receive his peerage."
"You know Seville?"
Michael raised an eyebrow and gave a slight smile and mused to himself 'Oh here we go, Santa said we would probably have this conversation, like last year.'
"Yup, sure do!"
"My pal Seville?"
"Yup."
"Seville in Canada, the famous blogger and all round Gentlecat?"
"Yup."
"Inventor of Whisk Time Travel Technology, patented throughout the world and in ALL of the nine cat kingdoms?"
"Absolutely! AND before you ask the next 3 questions, the answer is ..... Actually I don't know, but Santa said to tell you not to be nosy!"
"OH, well no harm in asking. But as to this Knighthood does he know yet, Seville, is it secret, I mean can I say anything?"
"Well no, not yet as it's not been finalised, but his name is on the list, along with another pal of yours, Basil, for services rendered, daring deeds and what not as it were, to the Crown and Commonwealth in times past and times to come. These things, ERin, do not go unnoticed in the corridors of power, or in deed behind the skirting boards and thrones in Buckingham Palace. It's not just Santa we work for you know!"
"But what about...."
"Enough already, ERin! Santa wasn't wrong when he said you were verbose. Cats!"
"Umm, I'm not entirely comfortable with being associated with a set of Hi-Fi equipment, but I suppose at least it was an expensive brand! purrs"
Michael groaned, not least from that last pun, and grasped the muzzle of one of the Mouser riffles that had been thrown against the wall. Hauling himself up, riffle butt under his shoulder, he stared at me, then grinned.
"You know, if I didn't know better I would think that you are beginning to like this new life of yours, being the Princess in the Palace. Come on, shake out of it! We have a world to save and about another 10 minutes before the RWM have used up all the electricity your peep loaded in the slot meter and the Palaces power supply shuts down exposing fusion core of the back up CCR, thats CreamCheeseReactor to you. If that goes there will be melt down, and I don't need to tell you how messy that could get! Cats!"
"Eww! That sounds worse than one of peeps home made pizza! Hang on, We have a backup reactor? I never even knew we had a non backup. Mouses! What happened to the main non backup, and why wasn't I informed we had such a device? I really do need to know these things in case the Council want to charge extra on the Palace taxes and not least because peep is likely to think it was a microwave and try and cook supper in it!"
"Fear not, the main reactor was the oven, and we all know your peep can't cook, so we were on safe ground disguising it as that. Alas what we hadn't figured on was peep trying to dry out the family of spiky Hedgehogs the Kraken found adrift in the moat. Those quills shorted out the reactor quicker than you pouncing on a Niptini cream liqueur!"
"So, wheres the back up then? I asked, I can't recall seeing a glowing reactor lying around the Palace anywhere."
"That was the brilliance of it, we found the only place that your peep never goes, ever!"
"What, the vacuum cleaner cupboard!"
"OK, the second place that your peep never goes!""Ahh! cunning that. Small enough to not arouse suspicion and always by a power outlet. Brilliant, there is no way peep would ever use that ever. Absolutely abhors irons and ironing."
"Right, well, no point you wasting time chatting, Michael, lets crack on with it. For Queen and country and the world, not to mention Santa's good book that I really do want to be in! Oh, and for my cheese and cream vault. I shall sally forth from this er... secret bunker and do battle with this heinous foe. Umm, do you have a sally by any chance? Needn't be the forth, a fifth would do? Anyone?"
"Your on your own, kid." Michael said, and with that he saluted me and turned and hobbled off in the other direction.
"You know what, no one is ever going to believe this. Mouses!"
*** And Cut! ***
Join me tomorrow for the conclusion of:- A Christmas Adventure, with Mice! (Part 2)
PS. Other great blogs are available, and I absolutely heartily recommend them all!
PPS. No living creature was hurt in the making of this story..... so far!
PPPS. NO Terms and Conditions apply, though sitting down with a Niptini and a plate of cookies and cream dip does add to the experience, so long as your NOT driving at the time. Mouses!
