From: trumpins@alexia.lis.uiuc.edu (Barbara Trumpinski)
Subject: narnia and other chronicals--part 5
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Date: Sat, 11 Apr 1992 22:36:26 GMT


Good grief, I don't believe it ... there's still more ....

~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~

   "Happy Birthday DM !" shouts Linda in her silver human-centaur mode.
   { She is only as tall as a mouse. }

(But dear Danger Mouse is *quite* tall for a rodent.

      "May you always have excellent seeing, excellent telescope
       optics, and your cameras always work." NickD.

   Hugs from Linda, Robbie, and NickD. are confered on the Danger Mouse.


	A dry wind blows through the meadow, and a prarie schooner
rumbles in.  It's a conestoga with a sail, packed to the gunwhales 
with what apears to be mostly useless junk.
	On the bench in front sits a pack-rat, his face lined and
seamed by the desert sun which he dodges quite artfully at times.

	"Iszis 'da meadow where Danger Mouse is..."  He trails off,
noticing the cartoon mouse surrounded by friends.  He furls the sail,
and the Conny slows and stalls.
	He hops down and walks towards DM.  "Now, I remember back in
the summer of '12 - or was it '14?  Well, no matter.  Anyway, that year
there was a lot of rain, and ol' Jim Velde's meadow looked like this.
Huh.  Haven't thought of ol' Jimbo in years.  We used to call him 
'Jimbo, agent of the Devil', you know, on account of that Ram he had.
What an animal that was!  Why he could...." Pack rat trails off, realizing
he was babbling.  "Sorry, you know, when you start getting old and lonely,
you sometimes babble when you get to talkin' to real folks.  Like back 
in the winter of '09, when... never mind, son, what I mean is, I've heard
you're a famous discoverer of Galaxies, and that you was havin' 
a birthday today.  Happy birthday, son.
	"Oh, and could I get your autograph?  Collect 'em, you know."
	DM blushes and signs Pack Rat's book, noticing that he's lost his
pen somewhere, and that the one the rat puts in his pocket is remarkably
similar to the one he used to have.
	"Well, Happy Birthday, doc.  I guess I better get going, 
I've got a long way to go before sunset.  I've heard there's gold at 
Sutter's Mill, maybe I'll head out that way."
	The rat climbs back onto the Conny, and unfurls his sail.  
as he disapears over the horizon, his deep voice can be heard, muttering,
"Now where did I put that map?"

Best wishes from the Artful Dodger.

--
An X-Window appears, showing an oriental kid in a black t-shirt and blue jeans
at an old Informer 202 terminal.  He looks up, smiles, waves to everyone, and
starts typing.  Glowing amber letters appear over the picture, reading:

     SORRY FOLKS.  CAN'T AFFORD TO GET IN THE FUN, BUT I WANTED TO WISH DANGER
     MOUSE A HAPPY BIRTHDAY.  DAVE, STAY MELLOW, DUDE, AND ENJOY THE SOLAR
     RETURN...  OH, AND NEVER USE AN INFORMER 202 TERMINAL...  I CAN'T FIGURE
     OUT HOW TO TURN OFF THE BLOODY CAPS LOCK!  ;)  LUCKILY, IT'S ON SO I CAN
     YELL "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!"

With a grin, the semi-demi-quasi-pseudo lurker disappears

more and more folx come into the meadow...bearing various and assorted
gifts and food.  Poor DM is quite stunned at all the attention...and
still being fussed over by a harem of lovelies.

Grinning, T'Kee the Cat-Centaur pads up to Danger Mouse.  "The Sprite
said we should bring bats, but somehow I don't think my cousin Moonfur's
spaceship would fit in very well here," she says, looking about at the
peaceful and pastoral scene.  "But since it *is* so nice here, you might
like this."  The large feliniod hands DM a oddly shaped box -- long and
thin and circular at the top, but with a square base.  Opened, it
reveals a kite!  Assembled, it proves to be a triangular kite, made out
of some irridescent black material.  The square is a string-holder, but
with the addition of several buttons.  The DM presses one, and the kite
has an angel-fish design on it!  Further buttons reveal space-ships,
rainbows, dragons, and (yes) bats. A small screen in the middle permits
other designs to be added. 

"Hope you like it," T'Kee says.  She leans forward and whispers, "It's
really high-tech stealth material, and a little anti-grav for when
there's not enough wind, but don't tell anyone it's not magic,
okay?"  Then, with a hug, the cat-centaur relinquishes DM to the rest of
the well-wishers.   


	 The meadow, already ablaze with life and color, brightens further
as the sound of hoofbeats are heard.  Suddenly a small herd of centaurs
(herd of centaurs? I'm sure you have) gallop into the meadow, treading 
carefully to avoid the tables, baskets, and various furry creatures.
	 The centaur in the lead slows down and trots toward Danger Mouse.
He hands the mouse, already dazed with all of the attention, a wreath of
sweet-smelling flowers.  "Happy birthday, Danger Mouse." The centaur's
voice is very amused.  "Twenty-four, hmm... not quite ready to be put out
to pasture yet." The centaur grins.  "Our gift to you, mine and the rest
of the herd's, is a gift of recreation. At any time, call any of us
and we will take you anywhere in this land.  We will be guides, companions,
and transportation all in one."  A young, pretty, centaur filly advancesand
hands him a chain with a small pendant, silver, oblong, decorated with tiny
gems, and hollow.  "Use that to call us." the leader says, demonstrating.
He blows gently into the top hollow, making the whistle emit a low, haunting
note like wind through trees. "One of us will hear, and come to you.  Happy
Birthday once more!" And the centaurs left to join the celebration.


Happy Birthday and Goddess' blessing, DM...


Darkness has descended on the picnic as night approaches.  Then suddenly, in
the sky, a bright object appears.  The intensity increases.  It goes from being
a bright star to the intensity of a planet, then of the full moon, then of
broad daylight.  Is it a supernova?  A meteor?  No, though we begin to hear the
sounds of an object moving at quite a high speed through the atmosphere.
It's a eucalyptus tree, somehow enduring reentry without burning up.  It
descends and plants itself in the middle of the picnic grounds.  Then, even
stranger, it blossoms with the lavender flowers of a jacaranda, which fall from
the tree, and array themselves on the ground, spelling out the words:
	
	HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DANGER MOUSE!

The breeze sighs through the leaves of a nearby eucalyptus, and in the sounds 
of the breeze through the leaves, we seem to hear the voice of Speaker-to-
Minerals (what DOES he sound like, anyway?) saying, "And may you have 
many more."


----<--<@


Logos and Anima look furry and cuddly enough at the moment. More than
cuddly enough to overcome Danger Mouse's instinctive fear of felines.
Logos smiles, wishes DM a happy birthday, and hands him a silver apple.

"You know, those troublesome apple trees were also EVOLVING like mad!?"

Anima wishes DM a happy birthday, and hugs him warmly. After about five
minutes, Logos nudges her and she stops. Logos whispers to him.

"Don't worry, they only FEEL broken."

They move away.

As they depart a scroll appears out of thin air...one of the bunnies
hands it to Danger Mouse, who reads...

                  * * * *

>From Peepiceek,
Head of the Talking Mice in Narnia
Since Reepicheep Sailed East,

Greetings to:
                       Danger Mouse
                       From the Land OZ
                       On the World Callahans.

Felicitations on the happy occurrance of you Birthday.  We wish you
all the best and estime that you will enjoy many more.


Yours,
Peepiceek

                * * * * * *

And of course no party would be complete without our own Nick Chopper
and Stan.  Nick glitters as he is freshly polished for the party and
he bears a treat in his hands.

Klank.
For someone with a birthday down under:


                         ......R..................
                    III..R    R    T   H    H DDD ...A..
                  III    R   R     T   H    H D  D   A  ...A.
               ...  I    R  RRR    T   H    H D   D  AAA   A ..Y
             BB     I    RRR   R   T   HHHHHH D    D A  AAAA   Y.
            B  B    I    R     R   T   H    H D    D  A   A   YY .
           B   B    I    R  RRR    T   H    H D    D   A A   Y Y  .
           B  B     III  RRR     TTTTT H    H DDDDD     A   Y   Y .
           B BBB  II                                       Y     Y.
           B   B                                                 Y.
           B BB                     P                             Y
           BB                  A    P            P                .
           B           A       A    P            P                .
           .      H    A  AAAAAA    PPPPP        P             Y  .
           .      H    AAA    A     P    P       PPPPP         Y  .
           H   HHHH     A    A      P    P       P    P       YY  .
           H HH   H      A  A       PPPPP        P    P      Y Y  .
           HH     H       AA ********************PPPPP      Y   Y .
           H      H**********                    **********Y     Y.
           H   ****                                        ****  Y.
           H **                                                ** Y
           .*                        | |                         *.
           *                         | |                          *
           *                         | |                          *
            *                        | |                         *
             **                      | |                       **
               ****                  | |                   ****
                   **********        | |         **********
                             ********| |*********
                                    \|\ /
                                    -(,)-
                                    / v \

Happy BIRTHDAY, you stargazer, you! Blow out them candles!

~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~



--
***************************************************************************
conan the librarian a.k.a. kitten           /\ /\  barbara ann 
"my life's a soap opera, isn't yours?"      {=.=}
                                              ~   trumpins@alexia.lis.uiuc.edu 

"kittens today are not properly trained--the way that they were when
victoria reigned." asparagus (gus: the theatre cat)
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