Ro peeked into Mo’s little corner. Mo was still sleepum but he dinn’t look so good. He skittled up to da itty space. “Mo? Mo? I brung you some crumblin.” Mo just held his tummy and groaned and turned over.
“Mo? You sick?” ask Ro, the crumbling dropping from his denticles. Mo just held his tummy and moaned and curled up tighter.
Ro was frantic. Mo was his friend and he didn’t know enough mouse to helps him. What was he to do? He stood for a moment, lookin at Mo and then it came to him. He had to go see MaRat.
MaRat was the old Cumin who lived under the low wooden just a scuttlin’ away. Critters kept a distance cause they all knowed she was a bit short of a noodle. She always kept them funny smellin crunches the bigguns stuck in their sizzling pans with their nibblins. Who wanted stinky things like them? But some says she is a smart one too. There be tails of her helpins other critters when no one knowed what to do. Maybe she could be a helpin Mo.
Ro took the long crawl under the cold inside. It was the fastest way to the room of the low wooden and had less risk of the prowler seein him. Stoppin at the edge he took a careful look around and scuttled across the 10 cockroach length to the overhang dividing Kitchum from the hinterlands of Pamtree.
Pamtree was a forest of strange objects. He skittled pass the low hanging white cord tangle, around the big red roundum that stunk of danger stuff, wove his way through nests of little roundums all tied tight together with coloured lids at the top, and sneaked through the white high sides that held bits of different sniffums tights wrapped in crunchy clear. Finally he reached the low wooden.
Here he stopped. No one went under the low wooden. They knew that was a dangerour place. More than one had told tails of losing others to the snap ums and sticky papers there. He had to go on though, Mo was sick and only MaRat could help him. Entering the darkum under the low wooden, Ro moved slowly timidly skreeling her name.
“Watch you doin in my place?” a grumbly voice snarled. “You be gettin back where you come from.” He could see her eyes glowin from the crack in the plaster out back, a large rolled brown stinky stick held firmly in her paws.
“Can’t go,” he stammered. “My friend, Mo, be sick and he need help. You the only help I know.”
“Whyn”t you be sayin’ so,” she replied in a little bit less grmblin’ voice. “I ain’t as mean as I look just don’t like the chiggers who come thinkin’ I is a which to be teasin an pokin at. What yo friend be gotting?”
Ro told her how Mo was acting lost he saw him. MaRat, having pulled herself up out of the plaster stood thinking. Then she turned without a word and crawled back through the crack. Ro barely had time to think she wouldn’t help when she was back again. In her forepaws was a tiny clear of something liquid.
“The bigguns call this chitten soop but I’s added some of my crinkle leaves that help when the floos hits us. You give him this. Just pokes the edge and squirts a bit in his mouth as much as he can take. You be stayin with him while he takes it. If he ain’t better with this one. I can gives you one more. Now you be gettin’! I got works to do.” And with a flick of her tail she disappeared once more into the plaster.
Ro never tailed me how he got the tiny clear ta me but he did and it worked cause I is here to rite this tail.So yous be careful about squichin those cockroaches. Just might be my friend Ro and my life might be hanning on you murcee.
*The above was discovered on the inside of a can label in a home I recently visited. The miniscule markings were original thought of as mouse dropping until someone discovered a letter like pattern. Careful placed in a plastic bag to avoid contamination, this strange document was taken to the local phenomena lab where it was carefully studied under high magnification. The sophistication of sentence structure and the use of paragraphs was first thought to be a rouse until DNA and substance testing proved the “ink” to be a mixture of rancid grease and crumbled mouse scat ingeniously mixed with some strange saliva unknown to humans. I hope you will disregard grammar and spelling errors. I have tried to render the story as true to the original as is humanly possible.