a thumpin'

Oh my mouses.

MOUSES!

Oh my mousie mousin' mouses, that was an awfully loud thumpin', for sure.

MOUSES!

For mousin' out loud, Peepers, what the mouses are you doin' up there?

What?  What's that, Peepers?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?

You're answerin' my question, you say?  Well, I beg to differ, but I think not.  I think your answer is stupid and doesn't answer my question, at all.

MOUSES!

Well who the mouses asked those peeps to be up on the roof, hammerin' and thumpin', and now dumpin' all those blasted packages of heavy thingy-ma-jigs up there?  Was it Santa?  Or his elves?  Or...

You're sayin', it was you?

Why, of all the mousie mousin' moused-up things for a Peepers like you to do.  Did you not KNOW how loud all that thumpin' would be?

MOUSES!

And by the way, Peepers, had it been Santa, I might have given HIM a pass 'cause, you know...  Santa is special, you see.  He brings me nip mice and biff bags and all sorts of wonderful things.

But you.  You!  You had no right to authorise such noisy, noise-makin' activities 'round here.  They're makin' that noise at my house, Peepers.  At. MY. House, and...

Scratch that.  They're makin' that noise ON my house, to be sure, and...

And it's scarin' Saffy, you see.

MOUSES!

No Peepers, I, Seville the Cat, am not scared.  I, Seville the Cat, am a brave mancat, you see.  But Saffy...

Well, Saffy is down in the basement under somethin' or other, coverin' his ears, and...

What?  What's that, Peepers?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?

Saffy's outside?

Oh.

Hmmm...

MOUSES!

And I say mouses 'bout this 'cause I really would have thought he'd be cowerin' in the basement under some furniture, coverin' his ears.  Tryin' to get as far away from the thumpin' as possible, like he normally does.  Like he does when there's thunder and lightenin' and stuff.  I really and truly did think that's what he'd be doin', right about now.

Why, I was so sure I was right, I didn't even bother to check!

Didn't think I had to, you see.

'CAUSE LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHIN', OL' PEEPERS-BE-JEEPERS OF MINE: I'M ONE WHISKER SHY OF HIDIN' IN THE BASEMENT, MYSELF!

Not that I'm scared, or anythin' like that.  I, Seville the Cat, am a brave mancat, you see.

I may have already mentioned that.

And brave mancats don't need to hide from loud noises.

No matter how scary they might be.

But nevertheless, my point is, that thumpin' is loud and it's scary and it's hurtin' my ears.

And where is my brother Saffon, anyway?

Lurkin', you say?  Lurkin' outside?  Watchin' the men up on the roof?  Waitin' for 'em to leave?

Hmmm...

Well, that's smart, I suppose.  I mean, they may not be up there fixin' the roof on orders from Santa, but...

But you never know...

You never know, with their knowledge of roofs and rooftop etiquette, they probably know it's just bein' polite that anyone spendin' time up on a rooftop should always leave a prezzie or two.  A prezzie laced with catnip or a boatload of treats or...

Hmmm...

Peepers, did you happen to notice if any of those noisemakin' noisemakers were dressed all in red?  Red hats and coats...  Red with white trim?  

Just askin' for a friend.

And a brother named Saffy who's out in the garden watchin' and lurkin', waitin' for the noisemakin' to end.

MOUSES!