A Dangerous Mission

Osbert, Nigel, and Phineus were on a mission.

"This way, lads!" Osbert called out.

"Which way?" Nigel grumbled. "We can't pissing see anything."

Osbert was undeterred, charging ahead. "Follow your noses, then!" he said. "Follow me!"

Nothing could put Nigel off, either. When he had a bellyful of bile, he was something of an Olympic whinger. He'd had his doubts about this quest from the start and he was working up a good head of steam to complain about it for several hours.

"What's so special about this cheese I ask myself... So special that we risk life and limb-"

When there was an almighty CRASH, Nigel wove it into his litany of low grade misery seamlessly.

"...and what was that, l ask you," he mumbled flatly, apparently not expecting a response. "That'll attract attention, you mark my words, and from the wrong sort, to boot..."

"Sorry!" came Osbert's voice again. "That was me. Didn't see that there. Whoops."

"Still in one piece, then..." Nigel sounded almost disappointed that this should be the case. "And has anyone seen Phineus lately, that's what I want to know. Mind you, I use the term loosely... He was probably under that avalanche of pans, and now we will never see him again... Colloquially o'course, 'cos we wouldn't of seed him anyway, would we..."

"Oh, stop complaining, Nige," Osbert laughed. "Phineus probably slowed down for a snack, that's all. Phineus! Phineus you tub of lard, stop munching for five minutes and come on!"

The wayward mouse appeared with, as suspected, crumbs on his whiskers.

"Sorry, Os," he said with a sheepish grin. "You did say to follow our noses..."

"Yes, but we need to stick together! Safety in numbers, Phin!"

You may have noticed that Osbert was the sort of guy to speak with lots of exclamation marks. Which is a shame, because in a minute he will really need them and they will have somewhat lost their bite.

"Do you hear that?!" he said, cocking his head and pricking his ears towards the sound.

"What?" Nigel crashed into Osbert's bottom. He had a tone of dread, but that was normal for him.

"That," Osbert said, and then they all heard it footsteps. Human. Female. Quite large.

The mice drew together with a shudder.

"Eurgh!" she shrieked. "Vermin! Nasty little pests!" There was a sound halfway between a snick! and a zing! such as might be made by a carving knife being drawn from its block.

"Shit!" Osbert said. "Run!"

"Where?" Nigel was plaintive now. "Which way? I-argh! She got me Os she got me-"

There was the sharp smell of blood in the air, and the surface under their paws was suddenly slimy and unpleasantly warm.

"Got you, you nasty little bugger!" The farmer's wife was triumphant, and her weapon came down again, making a thunk on the thick wooden table. Crimson sprayed from Osbert's behind as well, and then-

THUNK!

Phineas squeaked in terror and pain.

The three mice ran, and you'll be pleased to know they escaped and lived, albeit with a tale instead of a tail.

The next mission Osbert lead them on would be one of Revenge.