What To Do With A Talking Cowboy Mouse

• Mitchell Whiteside, Grade 6, North Metropolitan PEAC
• Short Story
• 2012

Excellence Award in the 'Legendary 2012' competition

I ran around the cell with a metal mop. Thwacking cockroaches that no one else seemed to see. If you think I’m crazy, you’re wrong. I’m in a lunatic asylum, sure. But NO way am I crazy.
See, it went like this.

One morning, Tuesday to be exact. I was lounging in my armchair, a La-Z-Boy to be technical. Watching Sunrise on my TV screen. I was watching Grant announce the weather forecast, my favourite part. He was in Wallaroo I seem to recall. When all of a sudden, I heard a loud whoop of joy from a little mouse hole. “Yeeeeeeeeee Hawwwwwwwwww! Take that you smelly varmint! Wooooohooooo!!!!!” I had a peek inside the hole. I saw a little mouse waving a revolver. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked him politely.
“Shhhhhhhhh!” He hissed. “I`m a gonna miss the Cheese Ball game. The Mouseland Cheddars are beating the Motland Swiss 57 to 49 and Swiss just got a cheeser!” `Holy Saint. A talking mouse! ` I thought. And then it hit me. I could sell this mouse to a zoo and then I’d be rich and famous! So I called the Perth Zoo. “Hello, Perth Zoo.” Said the lady on the phone. “I have found… A talking mouse!” I replied almost shouting. “Oh HAHA. Another prank. Good one. NOT!!!” And the lady on the other end of the phone hung up. Then I decided to bring him into the zoo myself and show them that the mouse could talk.

THE NEXT DAY
I was so excited that I fell out of bed in such a hurry, I nearly broke my ankle. I called out the mouse and lure him into a cage using some cheese from the pantry. I got in the car with him protesting in the back seat. When we got to the zoo, I showed the executives of the zoo the mouse. “Gentleman, today I bring before you an animal that will revolutionize history. I give you… a talking MOUSE!!!!” I said triumphantly. “Come on mouse, talk.” Silence.” I’ll give you some cheese. ”Silence. The executives were whispering and shaking their heads. One of them took out a radio and muttered something in it. In about two minutes, three policemen grabbed me and threw me into a horrible cell in the lunatic asylum. And here I am. I should get out in about 15 years. It really is horrible. Not even cable TV. And the beds here are preposterous. Have you seen what we eat?