Mouse Stories

Mickey, I may have replaced you in my affections with this dude. Okay, not actually this dude but a dude who looks like this. I walked into the work kitchen this morning and out of the corner of my eye something too small to be a mouse appeared to run across the floor. My first instinct was that I was dealing with a Cockroach. I turned my head, ready to squeal. I mean me and Johnny found a way to deal with each other but aside from him, I don't like Cockroaches. There in front of me was a teeny, tiny mouse. I have never seen a baby mouse before. Like baby humans, baby mice are much cuter than grown up mice. Well, of course, not everyone will agree with me here but frankly, you are wrong.

I stood and watched as he happily sniffed his way along the floor. I called someone over, he ran under the fridge at the sound of a new voice for all of a second then came back out. BALLS OF STEEL. We watched him, happily exploring the kitchen. The little dude got himself quite a reputation. For the entire morning he was happily running around regardless of how many people were in the kitchen. Then the facilities department moved the fridge and found dead Mum and dead Dad behind it. We were dealing with an orphan. Little orphan boy hid during the commotion. We thought, he'd learnt his little lesson to be scared of humans. And then this afternoon out he pops. Happy as larry. Well as happy as Larry is when he loses both his parents before he's ready to look after himself and he's left in the house without food. Or nappies. I kept going back to the kitchen, camera in hand. Clearly, he doesn't like his picture being taken. They are a bit shy these celebrities. Like to preserve their privacy for as long as possible. My baby gangster mouse was as illusive as Snoop Dogg during a drug raid.

I sat on reception, waiting for Facilities to call me and tell me when he appeared so I could pap him. And then a man walks past with an upside down paper cup over a pile of paper with a little teeny tiny tale popping out. Don't panic. I know I did. But he's alive. The man was going to release him into the wild streets of London. Now, sure, this is reason enough for you to panic. But hear me out. Little Mickey is one tough nut. He stood his ground without flinching in that kitchen. He probably killed his own parents, with a .44 calibre gun. Which is why he didn't want his picture taken. Ruthless the street kids these days. So the man tells us he released him down a side street where he ran down a drain to the underground he belongs in. Well, he wouldn't want the Police to catch him now would he? Double Homicide. If this was the US, he'd be facing the old lethal injection. But here in the UK it's just two counts of murder and about 20 years of jail time. But still, no one wants that. So down the drain he ran.

Now again, don't panic. The rats! What if the rats eat him, you cry. Pfft. Ye of so little wisdom. Right now, little Mickey Jr is terrorising a gang of rats. He's stolen a cap off the fat one and is wearing it backwards. Next up he'll be wearing jeans so baggy they are almost round his ankles. And next time you go to Oxford Street he'll be offering you drugs, overlooked by a posse of rat bouncers. Do not look them in the eye. Especially the one with the scar face, he's the runt, he's the one whose cap has been stolen and he's been humiliated into submission by a baby mouse, he will take aim at your throat to release his rage. Don't look at him. Do not. Look. At. Him.

Don't say I didn't warn you. We have a parent killer on the loose people.

M to the JR Dizzle is in the Mo Fo London Hizzle. They grow up so fast.