the Desk of
After the worst blizzard Mouse Island has seen in years, the streets are plowed,
the sidewalks are shoveled, and we here at The Rodent’s Gazette are
finally able to deliver our paper once more.
The night the blizzard hit, yours truly was behind his desk, working late. I
must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew Biff Whiskers, the night janitor,
was shaking me awake and telling me we were snowed in.
Whiskers pointed out the window, and I squeaked with
surprise. Snowdrifts were piled up to our second floor
window. It looked like a ski slope outside.
“Holey cheese,” I said. “We’re
We made the best of it. There was a fridge full of
cheese in the office kitchen, enough to last the two
of us for a few days if necessary. We played a lot of
cards and checkers.
After a while, we did go a little stir-crazy. Biff
found me typing All work and no play makes Geronimo
a dull mouse over and over again. And we did chase
each other around with brooms for several hours.
But by the time the city workers dug us out, our snouts
were yellow from too many mozzarella milk shakes and
we were arm in arm singing, “You’re my best
Quite an adventure, and we never even left the building!
Biff Whiskers and I are living proof that blizzards
can bring mice together.
EDIZIONI PIEMME ITALY