"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 nearly always near 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 either, 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!"
Join me now for the thrilling conclusion of: A Christmas Adventure, with Mice!
"That was the brilliance of it, we found the only place that your peep never goes, ever!"
Join me now for the thrilling conclusion of: A Christmas Adventure, with Mice!
The tunnel to the Grandfather clock was sparsely lit, but even so, I could detect the slight flicker caused by the failing backup reactor. The Palaces electricity supply must have been used up, which meant time was short. It was looking like my early night and Santa's impending trip down the chimney would be blown to smithereens, wherever that is, if I couldn't sort this mess out, fast.
Old memories began to surface of my life as a secret agent. Dark corridors were no threat, but it was what lurked around the corners that would kill you. I moved towards the tunnel wall, alert and ready to pounce, or roll onto my back, claws out and grab danger by the throat and....
A burst of light and explosion drew me to a sudden halt. I had been travelling faster and faster down the tunnel at a speed that left no paw prints in the dust on the floor or breeze to move the cobwebs from the wall. I slipped quietly to a halt just before the tunnel end, just behind the Grandfather clocks movement.
Beneath me, a five foot drop away and through plumes of smoke, a scene of utter carnage unfolded before my eyes. The Rogue Wireless Mice were running amok, exchanging fire with SPAM troops positioned in nooks and crannies around the dado rail, and blasting everything and anything that moved or in deed didn't, including peep's DVD player to the toaster!
The acrid smell of burnt wool hit my nose, and looking down I could see fresh smouldering scorch mark across the Palace rugs. The Palace cleaners would be in uproar for weeks I mused. But worse was to follow, for my eyes were drawn by the direction of those very marks to the far corner of the great hall, where lined up against the hearth were peeps and my own personal computer kit.
Every single item that we used and loved, from memory sticks and USB fans to the external hard drive, were lined up and blind folded. Even my very own sweet Wi-Fi mouse called Pinky, in Princess pink, was there. I could see her shaking, and she looked distinctly lack lustre, her low battery light beating very quickly. A firing squad of three ugly black RWM had assembled to dispatch all those that would not bow to their will and had stayed loyal to the Palace.
I was damned if I'll allow that to happen, and leapt the gap and landed squarely on the clock ledge. Without further thought of safety or the lift to my right, I launched through the air, this time turning as I went, and loosed a single shot from the Mouser at the mechanism. The bullet found it's mark, hitting squarely on the Pallet, which regulates the release of the clock movement, and sent it into a million, well at least nine, parts. My remaining free paws I reached out and found the clocks weight chain just as it started to freewheel downwards and out of control to the inevitable crash at the clocks base.
I jumped clear moments before impact, and executed a beautiful roll on landing and then without falter, ran straight for the little door that SPAM had left open for me. Sprinting across the cold flagged floor, dodging small craters left by the battle scene around me, I found the remains of our digital radio that had taken a direct hit. With a faltering last gasp of its battery, it played the Band Aid hit, Do They Know It's Christmas... 'They will if I have anything to do with it', I muttered. 'Mouses!'
I broke cover, and zigzagged my way towards the fire place and, ducking behind upturned smouldering toaster which had toasted it's last, I took up position near the firing squad. The great Hall had gone quiet, a quiet that seemed to be amplified by the cold floor of the Hall and by the small waves of fog like smoke that drifted across the scene before me.
Feeling in my waistcoat pocket, I pulled out the penny that I had dropped earlier, and tossed it into the air. It span in slow motion over and to the left of the firing squad, and then with a cold hard and echoing tone, the small copper coin hit the flagstones, bounced, then rolled away.
The three RWM all spun in unison from their intended targets and loosed a volley of laser fire on the coin. But the target was too small and the shots went well wide of the mark and hit some of Santa's mince pies and the three year old Canadian Cheddar, sending hearty meals worth of warm debris across the Hall. Ordinarily I might have been tempted to have a taste, but today was not the day Nouvelle Cuisine, and I leapt from the toaster and fired onto the RWM taking out two instantly and leaving the third to flash its last as the ruptured power pack within oozed a black tar like goo onto the rug.
With the remainder of the RWM now alerted and heading towards me, I shouted to Pinky and the others to lay down and play dead, and then headed towards the kitchen pantry and SPAM HQ. Michaels SPAM squad laid down some covering fire, and a couple of well placed shots sent some of peep's Christmas tree decorations crashing on top of my pursuers. In fact one shot dislodged the fairy from the top of the tree, which duly impaled one RWM squarely up it's USB charging port with star it carried, send a cascade of sparks flying everywhere. 'Never again will I scoff at that little fairy', I thought! Mouses!
Shrapnel was bouncing off the floor and walls as made it into the pantry. A quick glance at the fridges darkened lights and the water oozing from under the door told me time was running out. The fate of my cream not to mention humanity hung in the actions I would take in the next few moments.
Why would they not enter certain rooms? What was it they feared within? OK so peeps dirty stockings were a massive deterent from entering the laundry room, but surely the kitchen pantry would be fair game and a sure fire way to bring any society to it's knees. Wars in foreign lands, races being extinguished, and starving cats and dogs and people, and lots of society happily turns away. Take away the takeaway, the pizza, chips, and movie channel and parts of society will collapse.
Worse still, take away the Christmas spirit, the thanks giving and generosity to give to those less well off, the hungry and cold and lonely, and all is lost. 'The monsters', I thought, 'they seek to destroy Christmas and Santa and all that is good. OK so I am no angel, I kill to eat, to live, but I live to help others and help my peep.'
Payback time was here and I'd make Santa proud, and in his book or not, my past or not, I'll not have Christmas go down without a fight. Mouses!
'They key is in this room, somewhere here,' I mused, 'but what, what was it the pantry and cream vault had in common that the RWM's feared...'
The milliseconds that had elapsed spent pondering, ran out as soon the laser fire pierced the rooms sturdy wooden door, sending splinters into a pile of Brussels sprouts that had found their way inside. Hmm, looks like the RWM don't like Brussels either.
Michael's voice suddenly came into my mind. "ERin, come in ERin, Michael here. Do you hear me?"
"Wow that's a neat trick, didn't realise you could do telepathy!"
"Don't be daft" he replied, "it's the earpiece coms unit you're wearing!"
"Ah well, its an actual implant, done when you lost your ears. We didn't know whether it still worked but seems like a spell in the battle field has kicked started it. Now look, you, WE haven't much time. Have you got a plan as we sure as heck haven't."
"I'm not sure, I have a nagging feeling, and I don't mean peep!"
"Well whatever it is, take a tablet and get to work on that idea. We only have seconds to spare!"
"Michael! How can you think of food at a time like this, I've not had my late supper let alone second supper. Mouses!"
"That's Ninny Princess if you don't mind. You're forgetting that Palace comes from a long line of Scottish Palaces and I insist you use the correct derogatory term. When in Scotland and all that, though wearing the clan kilt is most definitely optional as the tartan doesn't include pink."
Had I that penny still in my pocket, I'd have taken it out and dropped it, twice in fact, for good measure. I had the answer, well I hoped so and there was only one way, one chance to prove my theory, save the Cream, the Palace, and the world from a horrid cheesy meltdown!
"Michael!", I shouted, "Get ready to set up an ambush, I have a plan. Now all I need is some tech to pull the carpet from under those RWM, once and for all. Mouses!"
Reaching into my Utility Belt I pulled out various items, including a rather natty Sonic pocket tool kit with cheese knife and claw clipper attachment, a small umbrella with knockout dart, and some nip flavoured lip balm. All very handy for european cheese tasting missions but not exactly what the situation called for. But there, secreted at the very bottom and still in its wrapper with price tag was what I needed. "YES!" I exclaimed pumping the air with my paw, "Now all I need is to find the right spot to deploy you!"
"Seriously!" Michael said, "You're pinning the worlds hope on that! A tiny 4 inch long whisk priced $1 Canadian, are you mad! Are you nuttier than that squirrel in Seville's tree that makes nut pies?"
"Ah" I said, "this isn't just any old whisk, but something special that my pal Seville, you know the great Canadian blogger created along with his late great brother Nerissa from the Nerissas Life blog! This is a one of a kind, a prototype that may well save my cream... er... the world and our bacon too, though that may still be OK in the fridge!"
I pulled off the wrapper and withdrew the tiny whisk and a small pawheld remote unit. Little numbered wheels, which related to the day, month, and year were inset into the wire handle. I turned it back, 2 years to the day, and armed it by pulling the small wire hanging loop out from the body.
"Get the SPAM out of here else you'll all be done for!" I shouted at Michael, and launched the tiny whisk into the air above the middle of the pantry floor. The whisk sparkled as it spun on it's upwards path, and then it stopped mid flight and began to glow and whisk itself into a frenzy.
Like the dawning of a summers day, the light from the whisk began to spread sideways and downwards, and everything it touched beneath it started to change until every inch and every corner of the lowest two feet of the pantry had altered. The debris scattered carpet was now a cool crisp clean tiled floor. The bare stone walls were now a perfect painted white, and the shelves had been restocked with different food. 'Hmm' I mused 'I just hope them RWM's cant read the sell by date on these tins as it'll give the game away.'
"Quick" I said to Michael, "you get their attention and bring them to me in the centre of the room, just make sure they all get beyond that door frame, and then get your men back under cover of something hard, and I don't mean that crusty loaf, this could get very messy. Mouses!"
Michael took the order and sent some SPAM out towards the advancing army of RWM, and then ducked himself behind what appeared to be some of peeps burnt sweet mince pies. I never thought I'd see those again, nor that they would come in handy, I mused.
With their attention thoroughly hooked, it didn't take long for the RWM to make it to the pantry door. I had taken up position in the middle of the now cold stone floor, rather than the carpeted one that had been there a few moments earlier.
They seemed to falter for a moment at the threshold, and clearly were confused by what they now saw, and were wildly scanning floor.
Seconds only passed, in what seemed age, which in some senses it was, but they weren't to know that. With quickening pace they slid their way into the pantry and started to encircle my position. Scroll wheels whirling and buttons clicking they were the most menacing creatures I have seen. Possibly of some I haven't. Mouses!
Intent was clear, it was barbecue time and I was going to be the burnt offering, and no mistake. The lasers started to glow from an otherwise quite nice pink, to a lurid red, and smoke began to emanate from the USB charging ports, accompanied by a growing harmonised whining sound that was nothing at all like a Christmas carol but definitely was heading towards peep's very own style.
"Whatever you going to do, do it now, Erin," Michael shouted over the coms, "else we'll be spam and cheesy melt fritters!"
There was a sudden surge of energy within the room and the RWM's started to glow and shake. I hit the remote switch for the Micro Whisk that I had held in my paw, and jumped clear of the floor. In fact I jumped higher than a four inch cat could or should be able to, and my claws found the soft wood of one of overhanging shelves.
There I hung, shaking and straining to not rip my claws when beneath me there was a deafening pop, then a flash of bright light from the tiny whisk which had been hovering quietly out of sight above us. The pantry as now seen, collapsed, folded in on itself into the bright light of the spinning whisk, which, like the fading of a candle, guttered and then vanished leaving nothing but a static smell and a small whip of smoke. Everything had gone, the stone floor, the food, and the painted walls, all gone leaving the RWM high and dry on the tartan carpeting of the pantry floor of today.
Beneath me all hell broke loose as the RWM panicked in finding the reality of their new situation and seemed powerless to control themselves. One by one they began to shake and fizz. USB's flew everywhere and plastic was melting like softened cheddar. Finally, in their last throws of evilness, there was a large bang as the internal power storage units exploded from the pent up laser energy within.
Dropping to the floor, I checked my nails and worked my way through the melted and fractured RWM plastic cases, to the mince pie from behind which Michael now emerged.
'Peep sure wont be happy about the singe marks on the carpet' I thought, 'still, will be a great reason to get rid of this horrid carpet and redecorate. On second thoughts I might just keep a bit in the Cream vault, just in case!'
"Princess Erin, over here!" Michael called me to where he was stood, crutch in hand, and shook my paw an act of true camaraderie gave me a hug and a peck on the paw."I have to paw it to you, ERin, you were brilliant, but what actually happened?"
"Well, it all came together when you called me a Ninny! That's a Scottish term used to describe a fool or dimwit. That and the fact that the Palace is imported from Scotland, made me realise that nowhere else in the Palace had a tartan carpet, bar these two rooms. They always give me a headache when I look at them, so I bet it would be doing the same to them too. The real blessing was finding that miniature whisk still in my utility belt."
"Yes we wondered why you had that, thought it was some torture device, or for making a frothy nip latte maybe?"
"A cunning disguise for sure, but that is, or was, is a Prototype Micro Time Dilating Whisk device, made by Nerissa & Seville Whisks Inc, of Canada. They sent it to try out years ago, in my former life as The Shadow. Prototype or not it was our only hope.
This little whisk is just big enough to open up a portal onto the pantry as it was two years ago, before peep got the redecorating bug. Fortunately they were angry and confused enough not to notice the sell by dates on the produce on the shelves were years out of date, and took the bait of yours truly.
"Are you with me on this, Michael? OK, good. I had guessed the lurid, nay, frankly horrendous chequered pattern of the tartan carpet had been the reason they would not enter, and boy was I right. As soon as the portal collapsed and time reverted to the here and now, they were thrown back onto the very carpet they hated, and their underside optical lasers tracking sensor could not function or detect correctly through the carpets woven pattern. Deprived of a means of navigating or targeting they also had no way to control themselves or release their pent up laser energy, so they overloaded and went POP!"
"Can't say I follow all of that, ERin, but I think we can say that's the last we'll see of them, well this side of a spacial anomaly at least. I think what I can safely one hundred percent say is, I think you have earned a nice glass of nip tea. NO, actually make that a nip, not so skinny latte, with a whipped cream foam top, heavy on the nip sprinkles" Michael said, with a wry smile on his face as we headed off to the mouse hole.
"Oh and you leave all the tidying up to us, I think it's the least SPAM can do for you getting us out of this small issue. Er, who shall we send the bill too?..... Only kidding, HRH ER II will be happy to oblige."
"Oh and you leave all the tidying up to us, I think it's the least SPAM can do for you getting us out of this small issue. Er, who shall we send the bill too?..... Only kidding, HRH ER II will be happy to oblige."
After a long chat in the SPAM Mess hall, which I have to say was way better equipped than our own kitchens, Michael and I headed down to inspect the clean up operation in the great hall. Things were looking good, it has to be said, in fact I couldn't even see any dust bunnies lurking anywhere. Good job I thought, means I won't have peep trying to vacuum things for a while.
"Hmm, I do recall something about you needing to earn your place in his book, don't you?" Michael said, "I think it's safe to say that if Santa had confidence enough to say you could, you could, and Christmas isn't Christmas without a little giving, now is it? I tell you what, you sit here whilst I give The Big S a call, it's nearly his time to ring me anyways, so I wont be long. Catch you later, Erin!"
With that, Michael, who actually does have an alias too, but which his contract says I can't mention, even once, gave me a wink and turned for the mouse hole that lead to SPAM HQ.
Well, I mused, I suppose there is nothing else for it but to have a nap and wait for a call. I'm sure I can do a deal, maybe on mice, or something to get off the For Hire list. Mouses!
The gentle thud that awoke me was strangely familiar. 'Ah, probably peep falling over in those daft slippers again' I thought. 'I do hope Santa brings something better this year, woolly moccasins would be nice and comfy, less frightening too!'
Glancing around the room I noted to my relief that I was full size and not a hair out of placed or an ear singed. In fact I actually felt better than when I dropped off, leaner, fitter and more invigorated somehow than before my dream.
Glancing around the room I noted to my relief that I was full size and not a hair out of placed or an ear singed. In fact I actually felt better than when I dropped off, leaner, fitter and more invigorated somehow than before my dream.
The flames in the stove cast a gently weaving flickering amber light over the hearth and the Silver wrapping paper of the presents that rested there, from Auntie Marjorie in New Zealand and Uncle Brian in America. But nestled atop of the logs, stacked to one side, I noticed a small strangely shaped almost conical package, wrapped in red and tied with a pink ribbon and bow. Lifting the tag, which bore a Santa motif, it said these words, and I mean actually SAID these words...
"Look after the little things in our world, and they will look after you... Sweet dreams and God Bless, Princess ERin, until next year. S."
"WOW, He'd got in and out without so much as a sound. He's quiet a guy. I wonder what this gift is, maybe I could..."
With a sparkle and a glow the gift tag turned over in my paw and then it said... "PS. don't you dare open before tomorrow, and keep it safe, you may be needing this sooner than you think!" PPS. And before you ask, NO I won't tell you what Seville will get for Christmas!"
Out the corner of my eye I saw a movement, a small glint from an eye. I have not had a mouse around for supper for many weeks now and the thought of a light snack before turning in rather appealed.
Then I saw it, a small copper coin at the side of the hearth glinting in the light cast by the flames. 'Surely this wasn't the coin? Surely that was a dream, right?'
Out of the shadows came a mouse, a mouse with a limp and a rather bad tailor. He picked up the coin and brought it over to me, and smiled.
"I think you may have dropped this, Princess, that is right, isn't it. Princess ERin, it says here in my book, and Santa's book is never wrong."
I looked at the coin, it's worn, burnished surface reflected the mouses face, a tired face, his life in fact. "Yes" I said, "I think I did. But maybe you'd better keep it for me, in that utility belt until next time. I have a feeling I may just be needing it."
"A pleasure," Michael said, for that was his name, "do you mind if I sit a while, maybe rest these weary legs, and soak up some of the warmth of this lovely fire?"
"Be my guest. Here, come and snuggle down beside me, there is always room in this draughty old Palace for a friend in need, though you really have to excuse some of the decor and carpets. I do believe there is some rather fine mince pie pieces over there, and some cream, and cheese nibbles, if you fancy a snack?"
"Thank you, yes, it is cold and hard outside and I will be happy to have some company for the night, it's not easy being four inches high."
I nodded, and I hooked my tail around the plate of mince pie pieces, and cheese, and drew it towards us. Then, with Michael curled up beside my chin, we settled in to enjoy the warmth of the fire, the Christmas spirit and the true meaning of friendship.
~ THE END ~
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
