Showing posts with label The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 April 2018

the weasels who stole Easter

"WHAAHHH?" Seville cried, awaking with a start.  "What the mouses was that?"

"DID YOU HEAR THAT?" Mason yelled as she ran into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

"Shh!!!  You'll wake up the peep," Seville told his sister, "and I just got her to sleep."  Putting his paws over Peep #1's ears, he asked, "Did I hear what?"

"That noise.  It sounded like glass breaking," Mason answered.

"As a matter of fact, I think I did hear that.  I heard somethin', anyway.  Some kinda noise woke me up."

"I think someone is breaking into the house," Mason whispered.  "Seville, you and I need to check this out.  Come on," she beckoned.  "We need to check it out right now."

"FINE," grumbled Seville, and jumping down from the bed, he scampered after his sister.  Together, they headed downstairs.

Side by side, the two cats crept along the hallway until they were within a paws' reach of the living room door.  Mason put a paw to her mouth, and extending one claw, she silently reminded Seville to keep quiet.  She then pointed to the living room and mouthed the words, "They're. In. There."

The two cats peered around the corner of the door, and into the living room.  Their jaws dropped at the sight before them.  Several weasels were searching the room.  They were looking under the chesterfield and chairs, tossing throw pillows onto the floor, and even reaching behind the paintings on the walls.  In the dining area at the far end, a weasel could be seen rummaging around in the drawers of the buffet table, while another was lifting the corners of the area rug.

"What the mouses are they after?" whispered Seville to his sister.

Mason shrugged her shoulders.  "Nip?" she suggested.

"Well they're out of luck if it's nip mice they're after," said Seville.  "I slobbered over the last one in that room, yesterday afternoon.  Remind me to tell the peep we need her to knit up a few more."

Mason let out a little gasp.  "Look!  That weasel has found something on one of the dining room chairs."  She squinted so as to see what was in the weasel's hand.

Both Seville and Mason recognised the weasel's newly found treasure, immediately, and turned to face one another.  In unison, they cried, "THEY'RE STEALING OUR EGGS!"

A deathly silence emanated from the living room.  Having heard the cats in the hallway, the weasels stopped what they were doing, and listened intently.  Hearing nothing more, they went back to searching the room.

"They're stealing our eggs," the two cats cried again, this time whispering.

"Those are the eggs the Easter Bunny left for us."  Seville stomped a paw.  "For us CATS.  And they're stealing them all.  Those dirty rotten rascals...  MOUSES!"

"Shh..."  Mason reminded her brother, once more.  "They'll hear you.  We need to find out what they're planning to do with our nip eggs."

"They're probably gonna have a nip party or somethin', Sis.  They're probably gonna get nipped on OUR nip eggs."  Seville pressed his lips shut.  Catching his tongue between his teeth, he stopped himself from yelling out MOUSES!

"SHH..." Mason reminded her brother a second time.

"Wait a minute," murmured Seville.  "I have an idea.  Be right back," and he scampered off into the kitchen.  Moments later, Seville returned carrying a large egg.  Very carefully, he gently placed it on the floor in the middle of the hallway, just outside the living room door.

"Get back!" Mason urged.  "They're coming this way."

The two cats pressed their backs against the hallway wall.  Luckily, there were no lights on in the hall, allowing them to melt in the shadows.  They watched as seven weasels, each carrying a bulging sack of what appeared to be nip eggs, marched, single file, toward the front door.  The lead weasel bent down to pick up the egg Seville had left on the floor, and tossed it into the sack he was carrying.  Moments later, the front door slammed shut, and the weasels were gone.

"MOUSES!" cried Seville, loudly this time, no longer having to conceal his presence.

"Mouses, indeed," Mason murmured.  Turning to her brother, she calmly stated, "Seville, you and I are going to go get our nip eggs back."

"Maybe we should just phone the police," suggested Seville.  "There are seven of them, and only two of us."

"And like the police are really going to believe two cats calling in the middle of the night about a gang of weaselly bandits stealing nip eggs left by the Easter Bunny."

"Hmmm...  You might have a point there, Sis.  Weasels stealing eggs does sound kinda fanciful, doesn't it?"

"Come on."  Mason grabbed Seville by a paw, and dragged him toward the front door.  Once out on the veranda, they spotted what they recognized as the Weasel Syndicate's getaway van, heading down their street at top speed."

"I KNEW IT!" Seville cried.  "I knew the Syndicate was behind this, for sure."

"COME ON, THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!" yelled Mason.  Still holding Seville by the paw, she started after the weasel's van at a trot.

"Mason..." and Seville dug his back paws into the ground.  "We can't catch up to their van on paw.  We need to..."

Mason spun on her heels.  "Don't be such a negative nelly, Sivvers.  No one would ever get ANYTHING done if they gave up before even trying."

Reluctantly, Seville got to his paws.  "FINE.  But I still say..."

At that moment, the Weasel Syndicate's van came careening back down the street and toward the cats' house.

"Well would you look at that," whistled Seville.  "You think they've had a change of heart and are returnin' our nip eggs?"

"No...  Why would they?"  Mason looked puzzled.

The van screeched to a halt at the end of the cats' driveway.  All four doors opened at once, and weasels came piling out, coughing and sputtering, gasping for air.

"What on Earth?" Mason cried.

Seville smiled a wide smile from ear to ear, and light from the streetlamp sparkled as it bounced off his upper fangs.

The head weasel marched over to the cats, tossing down his sack of eggs at their paws.  "And I suppose you think this is funny!" he cried.

Seville chuckled.  "Actually, uh..  Yeah.  As a matter of fact, I do."  He held onto his tummy and roared with laughter.

"OUR WHOLE VAN REEKS!" the weasel yelled.

Mason looked puzzled.  "Sivvers, what did you do?"

"WHAT DID HE DO?" cried the weasel.


"Yeah, what did he do?"  Mason looked from the weasel to Seville, and back to the weasel again.

"Heheheheheee..." laughed Seville, clapping his front paws together with delight.  Grabbing the weasel's sack, he peered inside and gave it a little sniff.  "Everythin' seems in order here.  Where did you put it?"

"Where did he put what?" asked Mason, still confused about what was going on.

"It's in the van," grumbled the weasel.  "It fell out onto the van floor."

"And did it break when it fell?" asked Seville.

"You know perfectly well that it did, Cat," the weasel spat.  "Why else would we have returned?"

"Why else, indeed," smirked Seville.

"WHAT THE MOUSES IS GOING ON?" Mason yelled.

"Sorry, Sis," Seville apologised.  "I guess I should fill you in.  Remember that egg I left on the floor in the hallway?"

Mason nodded.

"And do you remember those eggs Peep #1 found way at the back of the fridge, the other day?  You know, the ones she had forgotten about?  The ones from Easter, LAST year?  The ones she didn't know how to get rid of?"

"Oh yeah..." and now it was Mason's turn to smile.  "I remember those."  She slapped Seville on  the back.  "Good one, Seville."

"I know, right?" and Seville gave his sister a high paw.

"WHO'S GOING TO PAY TO DESTINKIFY OUR VAN?" the weasel yelled.  "IT REEKS FROM TOP TO BOTTOM!"

Mason pursed her lips together.  "It does, does it?  Well that's somewhat unfortnate."  She placed her front paws on her hips and stomped a paw.  "You weasels shouldn't be breaking into houses and stealing cats' nip eggs.  Maybe you'll learn a lesson from this."

Seville leaned over and whispered in his sister's ear.  "Not likely, Sis.  Weasels aren't too bright, you know.  They're not like us cats."

"True," agreed Mason, before turning back to the weasel.  "I want each and every one of the nip eggs you stole, returned right now.  Come on.  COME ON.  Time's a wasting!" and she snapped her claws together, inches from the weasel's nose.

"You go, girl," Seville told Mason.  "I'll go re-hide this bag of nip eggs.  Those two long-haired marmie freak brothers of ours will be awfully disappointed if they don't get to hunt for eggs on Easter mornin', you know."  He turned, and as he headed inside the house, he called back to his sister, "Have the weasels leave the rest of our eggs on the veranda, okay?  I'll come get 'em once this first lot is hidden."

"I SAID, TIME'S A WASTING!" Mason again yelled at the weasel, who was still standing in the same spot, watching with dismay as Seville headed indoors.  "GO GET THOSE EGGS, AND GO GET THEM NOW," Mason cried, practically pushing the weasel toward his van.

"BUT WHO'S GOING TO PAY TO DESTINKIFY OUR VAN?" the weasel again cried.

"The same weasel who broke a rotten egg on the van floor, I would think," answered Mason.  She snapped her claws once more.  "Go get those nip eggs, I said."

"But..."

"Shall I go see if I can rummage up another rotten egg or two from the back of the fridge?" Mason asked.


"No.  No...   NO!  that won't be necessary."  The weasel gulped, hard.  "You cats may have won, this time, but..."

"But?" asked Mason, daring the weasel to continue.

"But nothing," answered the weasel, half swallowing his words.

Mason grinned.  "Feel free to cry MOUSES! if you so desire."

The weasel turned and grumbled as he stomped toward his van.  "Outwitted by a couple of cats...  On Easter morning...  MOUSES!"


Sunday, 29 June 2014

stole Christmas in July!

Well folks, it's lookin' like the Grinch went and stole Christmas.  Christmas in July, that is.  MOUSES!

A couple of weeks ago, I was out and about, padding around on the deck, checkin' that everything was in order and whatnot when I happened to notice that there was a flower bud on the peep's amaryllis.  Of course, my first thought was that Seville had been messin' about with whisks and had somehow screwed up somethin' in the space-time continuum...  AGAIN. MOUSES!

I mean...  Everyone knows that amaryllis bloom at Christmas.  Don't they?

I immediately went inside to tell the peep about her plant bein' all messed up but she told me that I shouldn't blame my brother on account of his not havin' done anything to the space-time continuum...  THIS TIME.  She said that the amaryllis peeps buy at Christmas are forced to bloom for the holidays and that under normal circumstances, that's not their usual bloomin' time. Interestin'...

Ol' Peepers went on to explain that she had grown these particular amaryllis from seed and this was gonna be what's called, their first bloom.  She was super excited.

To tell you the truth, I was really excited, too.  I was pretty sure that the flowers would still be bloomin' in July and that with the peep bein' so happy 'bout them blooming and all, we'd be able to celebrate in style.  Perhaps we could celebrate Christmas in July.  That would be fun and I've never done that before.  It would be especially fun if there were nip mice to be had.  I mean, what's Christmas without a new nip mouse?  You know?

So I started plannin' the celebrations.  I figured we'd keep things small and fairly low-key.  Just the fur-family, the peeps, the amaryllis and the nip mice.  Even though it was gonna be a small event, it would still be special on account of the nip mice.  I mean...  amaryllis.  MOUSES!

Then disaster struck.  All my celebratory plans came to a screeching halt on Friday mornin' when Peep #1 discovered that someone had gone and gone all berserk and bent the amaryllis' flower stalk all out of shape and chewed up its flowers, generally makin' a right ol' mess of the whole thing.  Made a mess of my plans for more nip mice, too.  Again I say...  MOUSES!

I know what you're thinkin'.  You thinkin' that one of us cats chewed up the amaryllis but truth be told, none of like amaryllis.  No, the damage done to the amaryllis - not to mention my plans for new nip mice in July -  was done by that marauding gang of rocky raccoons.  It's the season for babies, you see, and baby rockies get into EVERYTHING!  They must have thought the peep's pot of amaryllis was a jungle gym or somethin'.

As you can imagine, I was pretty distraught.  I was all set on celebratin' Christmas in July when all my hopes and dreams had been dashed.  But then I realised that even though there were no amaryllis blooms left for this year, there would always be next year and maybe I could convince the peep that a celebration was still in order.  Maybe there was hope for a nip mouse or two after all!

Then this mornin' arrived.  I think it's pretty safe to say that after this mornin', there will be no Christmas in July for me, this year.  No new nip mice.  No nothin'.

THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS IN JULY.

I went outside onto the deck this mornin' and saw the unthinkable.  The un...  the unseeable.   The un...  the un... the undoable!

That maraudin' gang of rockies had been back and this time, they were after the peep's plumies.  That's right.  They manhandled and rockypawed Peep #1's Plumeria seedlings.  A couple were out of their pots, lyin' there on the deck, roots exposed to the heavens.  She was able to save those ones.  The largest of her seedlings was kind of askew and she says she's gonna re-pot it tonight and that it should be okay.  But the best-lookin' Tahitian Sunset seedling was...  was...  it was...

IT WAS SNAPPED IN TWO LIKE A TOOTHPICK.  MOUSES!

I don't think that that baby Plumeria is ever gonna recover.  I think it's lost, for sure.  Peep #1 was super sad about that 'cause she had fallen in love with the name, Tahitian Sunset, and loved the idea of havin' a plumie bred from a plant with such a pretty name.  She's really upset, folks.  REALLY upset, for sure.

But I have a plan!  In order to cheer Ol' Peepers up, I'm gettin' ready to search the planet for some more Plumeria seeds for her.  I'll do some searchin' on the Internet, lookin' for ones with pretty names and whatnot or maybe with white flowers and strong scents 'cause I know she loves those.

And if the if my Internet search fails, I'll just have to teleport to wherever peeps might have a tree or two growin' in their gardens.  Either way, I'll find the peep some more seeds, soon.

Oohhh...  I just thought of somethin'.  If I can find the seed soon enough, I might still be able to pull off Christmas in July.  YES!  Might just get myself some new nip mice, after all.  NICE.