Sunday, 20 September 2015

Story #26 - Mice chatting

"Say, ballboy." Said a lanky mouse with a button nose and pencil dot-like eyes.
"Whatisit, Mack?" The other one replied. A small and rotund one with a basketball shaped sniffer. "Whycan'tcha...leavemealone...wheni'meating?" He had to take a short breathing break after a couple of words.
"Can I have some of your cheese?"
"Not even a teensy weensy bitinsy?" The tall one was on his little mouse knees, almost poking his chubby fellow with his nose.
"Awalrightaslong...asyouletmeeatin...piece." He gave him a quarter of the milk-made delish.
As they were both munching there, on their little feet, gobbling like prairie dogs do with carrots, they sensed something.
Twinkle steps approaching their little cubby, wry about what's going to happen, they don't even move.
"Are you absolutely sure about this?" The tall one said as he was about to let his golden piece fall on the floor.
"Whyyoueven...doubtingme? Itoldyouit's...fine,soit'sfine. Justrelax."
Indeed he did, and when the hairy paw came inside the hole, it grabbed the mouse trap that had a toy clone where the cheese usually stood.
"Flick!" and the metal snapped over. The mongrel on the other side started crying and howling you'd think it was a wolf.
He backed as he could, but there was nothing he could do.
"It's in pain. Maybe we should help him."
"Doesithelpus...getfood? Idon'tthinkso."
"Letitdie... Maybeitsmasterwill...lenditahand."
Even though the cruel and stodgy one told him not to, the noise was getting on the big's one's nerves. He dropped the remaining nugget, went over to the trap, and lifted the metal part just enough for the furball to go away.
"Hey,ifitcomes... It'sonyou."
"Fine. As long as I don't have that racket with me."

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