and it was one of the most crowded at the
fair. The reason? Inside was a small stage
where Grandma’s pet spider, Dolores, led a
crew of arachnids in a dance on stilts made
of BONES!
The von Cacklefur pet cockroach, Kafka,
was onstage, too, shaking his antennae
to the beat.
“Grandma, what a fabumousely frightening
idea!” Shivereen exclaimed.
“Thank you, my dear!” Grandma Crypt
replied, beaming. “They’ve been rehearsing
aaaChoooo!
since the last full moon.”
But the fair wasn’t over, not by a long shot!
Over in Undead Bard Corner,
Boris von Cacklefur was about to recite his
latest melancholy ode, titled “The Mouse
in Agony
.” Creepella, Shivereen, and
Geronimo stopped to listen to him.
“Daddy, your work is the most repulsive
of them all,” Creepella said approvingly.
The Mouse in Agony
by Boris von Cacklefur
The mouse in agony
Meandered down the lane
Thinking of his lost love
And whimpering with pain.
A fat rat demanded,
“Why do you weep into my lap?
Your dreary moaning
Disturbs my ratnap!”
At these cranky words
The mouse regained his pride.
He stuck his snout into the air
As his tail swung side to side!
The last von Cacklefur booth belonged to
Grandpa Frankenstein, who was proudly
displaying his collection of wrinkled
mummies. Above it hung a sign:
“Ooh, a prize! Which invention are you
giving out, Grandpa?” Creepella asked.
“Come closer, my dear!” her grandfather
replied.
Creepella leaned forward. Her grandfather
opened a little box right in front
of her snout.
Special prize! One free
invention per visitor!
What…?
Hee, hee!
Incredible!
Achoo!
Creepella sneezed three times in a row.
With the first sneeze, a little purple
cloud formed in front of her. The second
produced a green one, and the third
created a red one.
“It’s made from the dust of firefly
fossils!” her grandfather explained
proudly.
“Incredible!” shouted Shivereen,
impressed.
But her grandfather just nodded silently.
“Shhh!” he whispered. “The enemy has
ears everywhere!”
“Which enem—” asked Creepella, peering
at the next booth. “Oh, I get it. . . . You
mean Shamley Rattenbaum!”
Shamley was in front of his booth,
looking around eagerly. In his paw he
held a magnifying glass. When he saw
Geronimo, he smiled warmly.
“Ah! The famouse journalist from New
Mouse City! You are the perfect suitor for
my adorable granddaughters! How are you,
Mr. Stolten?”
“His name is Stilton, S-T-I-L-T-O-N,”
Creepella told Shamley sharply. Then she
turned to Geronimo and muttered, “And I
wouldn’t get your tail in a twist over his
granddaughters. . . .”
oNe SNeeze
too maNY
Shamley tugged his whiskers. “What bad
luck that I have the booth next to these
dreadful voN CaCklefurS!”
“What are you exhibiting, Mr.
Rattenbaum?” Geronimo asked.
“Your booth looks empty.”
Shamley chuckled. “It’s not
empty. Let me present to you
the most fabumouse show at the fair —
Shamley’s Amazing Acrobatic Fleas!”
Shamley’s Amazing Acrobatic Fleas
BIRTHPLACE: Jumper’s Pass
SIZE: Half a pin’s head
SPECIAL SKILLS: Beastly backflips, serious
somersaults, critical cartwheels, toxic tumbles, and
belly flops
WEAK POINTS: They are really hard to see!
Geronimo leaned in close. “But I don’t see
anything. . . .”
“Of course not!” exclaimed Shamley. “The
fleas are invisible to the naked eye. You need
this!”
He pawed Geronimo the magnifying
glass
, and the writer
peered through it.
At that moment, Creepella scampered
over with her grandfather’s box between
her paws. “Gerrykins you haven’t tried out
grandfather’s new invention,” she exclaimed,
thrusting the box under Geronimo’s snout.
“Creepella, you know I’m allergic to
everything!” he protested.
But it was too late.
Four small clouds appeared — first a pink
one, then a blue one, then a green one, and
then an orange one.
“
Achoo!
Achoo!
Achoo!
Achoo!”
Geronimo’s last sneeze, which formed a
big RED CLOUD, was so powerful it
sent him flying. He landed
s
mac
k
in the
middle of Shamley’s booth, scattering fleas
everywhere.
“Hee, hee, hee!” Bitewing giggled.
“NO! My fleas!” shrieked Shamley.
“They could be anywhere! Quickly, we must
use the magnifying glass to find them.”
Geronimo looked guiltier than a gopher
in a gerbil burrow. He’d landed on the
Try it!
Aaah . . .
Nooo!
magnifying glass, and it had shattered.
“You did this on purpose!” Shamley
shrieked at Creepella. “You are just as sly
and sneaky as the rest of your family!”
Grandpa Frankenstein hurried to
Creepella’s defense. “How dare you squeak
to my granddaughter that way, Shamley!”
“She destroyed my genius idea!”
Shamley protested.
“Hmph! Your genius idea was nothing
but a silly sideshow!” retorted Grandpa
Frankenstein.
Oww!
Achoo!
“Why, you blubbering buffoon, I’ll . . . I’ll
mummify you!” Shamley shouted.
“Just try!” Grandpa Frankenstein cried.
“You don’t have the guts or the know-how!”
Creepella put her paws between the two
rodents to separate them. Then
she led her grandfather back to his booth.
“Calm down, Grandpa,” Creepella said.
“It’s not Shamley’s fault. We ruined his
sideshow.”
But Grandpa Frankenstein was madder
than a black cat on a mouse-free diet. “Just
let me at him! I’ll fling him into a pool of
piranhas!”
Geronimo tried in vain to soothe Shamley.
“You’ll find the fleas — I’ll help you! Don’t
worry.”
But Shamley just stormed away. “I’m
leaving! There will never be peace between
the von Cacklef
urs and the Rattenbaums.
Never!”
“What do you think he meant by that?”
asked Geronimo after Shamley had
disappeared into the crowd.
“Oh, it’s an ancient legend, longer than an
alligator’s tail,” began Shivereen.
“A tale with three heroes,” continued
Creepella. “The first two are Casper,
Grandpa Frankenstein’s great-grandfather,
and Reginald, Shamley’s great-grandfather.”
“Who’s the third?”
asked Geronimo.
Creepella replied.
“
A FAMOUSE
WALNUT TREE!
”
Creepella began to tell the tale.
“Reginald Rattenbaum and
Casper von Cacklefur lived
next door to each other,
and spent their mouselinghood
scampering back and forth to
each other’s farms.
They were best friends for
life — close companions on
a thousand amazing
adventures. They grew up
paw in paw, sharing
every slice of cheese,
C
aSper
voN C
aCklefur
R
eginald
R
attenbaum
the laSt
WalNut
no matter how small.
“When they were barely more than
mouselings, the two friends decided to leave
for a LoNG JoURNEY around the world.
They explored lands near and far, collecting
many unusual treasures along the way.”
“What happened to those treasures?”
asked Geronimo. Creepella’s story had made
him more curious than a cat.
“Well, that’s the tricky thing. The
von Cacklefurs kept them, while the
Rattenbaums
sold
them, and then
squandered their fortune,” explained
Creepella.
“How does the walnut tree come
into the story?” asked Geronimo.
“One winter night, as the two were
returning from an excursion in the
Mountains of the Mangy Yeti, they met an
exhausted hiker on the edge of the trail.
“Reginald and Casper rescued him
and gave him a sip of blackberry
juice from their canteen.
“When he recovered, the
mysterious wanderer thanked
them warmly: ‘I am eternally grateful to
you! How can I repay you?’
“Casper and Reginald assured him
that they didn’t want anything, but the
wanderer insisted on giving them a gift.
“‘I want you to have something special,’
he said, opening his battered old bag.
He pulled out a small pouch and
gave it to the two friends.
“‘What is it?’ asked Reginald.
“‘In this pouch there is a special walnut,
THE WALNUT OF FRIENDSHIP,’ replied
the wanderer. ‘It symbolizes true friendship.’
Have something to drink!
Thanks!
“After he squeaked these words, the
wanderer went on his way. He disappeared
into the fog, and the two explorers continued
on their journey.
“When they returned home, they planted
the nut on the border between their two
farms as a symbol of the eternal friendship
between the von Cacklefurs and the
Rattenbaums.
“But as the years went by and the walnut
tree grew, the two friends passed away, and
their descendants began to bicker:
“‘The tree belongs to the von Cacklefurs!’
“‘Never! It’s the Rattenbaums’!’
“The two families were so busy
arguing that they neglected the tree
until it dried up, and so did all its fruit.
“Eventually only one walnut remained.
The last walnut is still hanging at the center
of the dried-up branches. When it falls on
one farm or the other, we will finally be able
to say to whom the tree belongs, the VON
CaCklefurS or the Rattenbaums,” Creepella
concluded. “Until then, we can’t agree.”
The last
walnut!
“Holey cheese, you’ll have a front-page
story
on your paws when that walnut
falls!” exclaimed Geronimo.
“We sure will!” Creepella agreed.
By then, their attention was back over
at Grandpa Frankenstein’s booth. Word
had spread across the fair that he had
truly outdone himself, and every
rodent in Gloomeria wanted to see his
MULTICOLORED sneeze clouds. A
large group of mice and other creatures had
gathered outside his booth.
As Geronimo, Creepella, and Shivereen
mimi! Where
are You?
slipped through the crowd, Shivereen
suggested they see every one of the
fair’s attractions.
They began with the SKELETON TOSS.
Creepella hit the bull’s-eye three
times in a row and won a little
mummy doll. At the Fatal
Fishing stand, she won a pair of
spotted piranhas.
“Auntie, those piranhas
are truly
g
hastly! They’ll
Castle, in the tank with all the
others,” Shivereen said brightly.
Their next stops were the Coffin
Crash, the Monster Merry-Go-Round, and
the Castle of Horrors.
By the time they took a ride on the
Swinging Shipwreck, Geronimo was a mess.
Every time the ship swung through the air,
his snout turned greener and greener.
At last, he fainted.
“Geronimo, you’ve grown softer than
the finest moldy Brie!” Creepella scolded
him.
“You old softie!” sneered Bitewing.
Raise your paws!
Yippeeee!
Geronimo was too dazed to defend
himself. “Are we done yet?”
“Nope! We saved the
best
for last,”
Shivereen replied. “Gloomeria’s most
famouse roller coaster, the Misguided
Ride
!”
“Sounds perfectly horrifying. Let’s do it!”
exclaimed Creepella.
The roller coaster was shaped like an
enormouse skull. Instead of cars, it had
COFFINS full of rodents rolling along the
tracks, which disappeared into a tunnel with
a terrifyingly high triple loop above it.
Geronimo’s snout went from ghost
white to slime green as he watched
the coffins speed up and down. “So, uh, you
really want to try it out?” he asked nervously.
Wheeeeee!
Awesome!
Fabumouse!
How thrilling!
Let’s go!
Woooo!
Uh
-
oh!
“Of course we do!” cried
Creepella and Shivereen.
They joined the
line outside
the gate. But they were soon
distracted by a ratlet whose
whiskers were soaked in
tears.
“Mimi! Where are you?”
he cried.
“Poor little mouse,” said Shivereen.
“Maybe he lost his pet.”
“Wonder if it’s a tarantula, a hornet, or a
spitting viper?” mused Bitewing.
Creepella scurried over to the rodent.
“WHAT HAPPENED, MY LITTLE ZOMBIE-WOMBIE?”
The ratlet burst into tears. “I lost my
sweetheart. She disappeared inside the
roller coaster!”
He threw his paws around Creepella’s
Mimi!
neck and sobbed into
her shoulder. “Mimi and
I were having so much
fun
. . . but when our
coffin zoomed into the
skull’s left eye, a gust of
icy wind blasted us. Sniff!”
“Strange,” commented Creepella. “Then
what?”
“I was so scared, I closed my eyes. When
I opened them again, my Mimi was gone!”
The ratlet showed Creepella a fur clip in
the shape of a bat. “This was all
she left behind. It was lying on
the empty seat,” he explained.
“My Mimi had very long
fur. It’s beautiful, like live
snakes. She would never leave behind her
favorite clip! Mimi! Where are you?”
“We have to do something!” Geronimo
declared.
Creepella nodded thoughtfully. “This whole
story absolutely reeks of mystery!”
This reeks of mystery!
We have to do something!
Creepella strode to the roller coaster’s
entrance, where she ran into the
Rattenbaum triplets. Behind them was
their millipede, Ziggy. As soon as he saw
Shivereen, he clapped his feet with glee.
The young mouselet tossed a few mummy
mold candies at him. Ziggy swallowed
them in one bite.
The triplets, on the other paw, were less
enthusiastic about seeing their longtime
enemy.