From: trumpins@alexia.lis.uiuc.edu (Barbara Trumpinski)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: narnia and other chronicals--part 2
Date: 11 Apr 92 22:10:52 GMT
Article-I.D.: ux1.1992Apr11.221052.23595
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana



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What?  You want more?

Coming right up!

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        On Sunday, April 12th, 1992, the Lamplighter finds himself
staying at a rustic old inn in New England.  It is raining outside
which leaves very little to do but explore his surroundings.  As it
is not yet the tourist season, he finds that there are many rooms
vacant, their doors standing open, inviting the curious to explore.

	From one doorway he sees an old-fashioned wardrobe standing up
against the north wall.  It looks as though it is made from old
mahogany, glowing richly in the morning light, giving evidence of the
loving care that has been lavished upon it over the decades, and
Lamplighter cannot resist going in for a closer look.  

        The doors of the closet are beautifully carved with figures of
fantastic flora and fauna in relief.  And, right in the center of each
panel is a lampost, of c. 1890, vintage.  This fascinates our
investigator, and as though compelled, he opens the doors and steps 
inside.

	The interior is lovely and roomy and not quite empty.  There
is a straw hat of the boater type, a canoe paddle, a wicker basket,
even a pair of hip waders.  But Lamplighter eschews all that when he
notices a strange shimmer and hears a click as the doors to the ward-
robe close behind him.  

        Suddenly in front of him he sees a forest of evergreen, birches,
elms, even the odd Jacaranda, Eucalyptus, and Wattle in full bloom.
Being of a curious nature, he steps out onto the forest floor ...

        Off to his left, he spies a familiar sight ...

	It certainly *looks* like there's a lamppost among those trees
over there -- what's it doing here?  And what keeps that steady flame
burning?  And what's that hanging from one of the crossbars?

	The Lamplighter goes to investigate, being the sort who is
naturally interested in lampposts.  He startles and is startled by
something large and white that bounds away as he approaches, but he
reaches the lamppost and finds a white envelope hanging from a crossbar
on a piece of string.  On the envelope, in silver calligraphy, is
written the letters, "DM."

	How very strange, he thinks.  
	
	Could that be our Danger Mouse, he wonders.  The one of the 
charming X-windows and universal knowledge?   And, the dreadful puns!?

        Lamplighter decides that this is worth some more time and 
effort.  So off he goes in search of ...

	Oh!  What have we here ... a meadow, a lake, a stream ...
and a Wattle tree surrounded by people and creatures of every fantastic
description ... and, just there, at the center of all the commotion,
is ... yes ... Danger Mouse ...

	Lamplighter makes his way over to the crowd, elbows his way
through, faces DM and hands him the envelope.  

        Inside is not a bomb, nor a mousetrap, nor anything from
Baron Greenback's evil schemes, but a card.  A card reading, in the same
silver calligraphy,  

                 *"Happy birthday, Danger Mouse!"*

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And sometime in the near past we find ...

SEA ---

Imagine SEA's consternation to be pounced upon and nagged at in a high-pitched 
voice that if she didn't wake up soon, she would miss it.  Rolling over and
looking at the calendar, she realized that dear Koally was right <Aren't I
always?>.  Rubbing the sleep out of her poor tired eyes, she dressed
appropriately for the occasion (for this indeed was an occasion that required
appropriate dress) and headed for the Place <What about me?>. 
Of course, Koally was coming with, had it not been for him SEA would have
missed this occasion.

Getting to Callahans SEA <we>, yes, they noticed that no one was around. 
Looking through the French Doors SEA saw what they had come for.  

[And, here we are in the present ... ain't VR grand   ... the ed.]

Stepping through the doors, they head straight for the Guest of Honour.
Already surrounded by loving animals wishing him Happy Birthday, 
Koally leaves her side and bounces right over (and SEA thought kitten bounced
a lot).

[Ha!  You should know better now, Auntie SEA!  .... the ed.]

"Allow me to introduce myself," says he.  "I am Koally and as you can
tell by my matted fur, I'm well loved and taken care of."  Koally,
sarcasm doesn't become you <okay, I'm well loved...I just have to
teach you to quit throwing me over the side of the bed in the middle of
the night>.

Getting as close as the marsupial can, Koally puts out one little stub of
an arm <you expected a hand or claw or something prehensile, perhaps?> and
begins to touch DangerMouse all over the face and shoulders <consider yourself
furred>.  Then hopping right into DM's lap Koally looks up expectantly, <I'm
waiting>.  Laughing aloud, SEA says "I think he wants to give you a birthday
hug".  Watching as her favourite mouse gives her favourite marsupial a hug
<hey!  who's hugging who here?> Sea joins in the festivities and gives DM
as big a hug as she can manage.  "Happy Birthday, DM...may you live to be
as old as I am, and a whole lot older!"  Back in the Place, the crashing
of glass against fireplace can be heard.

----<--<*                                                      @>-->----

Then ...

A few sparkles of light appear, rapidly filling out to form a roughly
humanoid shape.  Detail fills in, until the image is recognizably a
shadowy holographic image of der Mouse.  Gradually the static and
shadows clear, until all of a sudden the last of it vanishes, leaving
hanging in the air the fading words "Mouse has arrived.".  The figure,
however, does not stand there waiting for them to fade completely, but
instead bounces over to DM and hugs him vigorously.  "Happy birthday,
rodent-kin!"

All this time, Ramda is bouncing from place to place and now bowls
Der Mouse right over too!

Ooomph!

Ever helpful, J.R. Rabbitt tugs Ramda off of the afflicted rodent.

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--
***************************************************************************
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)