Each night was worse than the one before. On the third night Lumby ran away from his computer and hid under the desk. On the screen were images of Prehistoric Mice trying to jump into the room. There was a loud angry voice that said, “I’m Trambambu, the Prehistoric Mouse, Queen of Catanada. Soon we will change all cats into mice and not only cats but dogs too…”
Somewhere behind that mouse, a voice added, “Humans will be our slaves, they will provide food for us and all kind of services, Catanada will be changed into Ratanada.”
“Where is the off switch?” asked Rascal, having had enough.
“Here,” turned his head Lumby, showing him where it was. He quickly flicked it to the off position, but the switch did not work and the Prehistoric Mouse was laughing a very evil laugh.
The cats continued to try to turn it off but could not. They pulled the cord from the wall but it was hard and wouldn’t come out. They all got together and pulled and pulled to turn off the electricity, which was feeding the screen. When they tried harder they heard a man’s voice behind them. The cats turned their heads and standing there was a strange man. He was dressed in funny clothes. A peaked cap, tights and a large flouncy collar. His shoes looked like high heeled slippers. “I’m Marco Polo. Can you please show me how to get to China?”
Philosopher answered, “You must swim by the Pacific Ocean toward the west; it’s a shortcut.”
“No,” he quickly snapped, “it is the Far East and in an easterly direction. No one can go to the west and come back alive. Thank you, gentlemen, anyway.”
Then another man emerged from behind them and said that he wanted to go to China too, but by the west route. His name was Christopher Columbus and he too was from another era. His clothes, his manner and his speech confirmed it.
The cats told him that there was no need to go because America was discovered a long time ago. The man did not believe them, and he showed them the navigation plans across the Atlantic Ocean where he was ready for that first voyage. He was thinking that he was in Europe.
“Let’s pretend they are not here. It’s only a projection,” Philosopher advised.
But before he finished somebody’s voice said scornfully, “I beg your pardon? Pirates robbed me and hid all my treasure here.” He left through the window, then came back again, put his head in and added, “I will be back to find it.”
Everybody looked at each other. “Who was that? And what was it he wanted? Pirates robbed him and it’s all here?”
That made the cats uneasy again but they had enough problems trying to turn off the power to the computer.
“The computer caught a virus, I guess,” stated resolutely Rascal. The truth was, he did not even really know exactly what a computer virus was or how they worked but he had simply heard of them and concluded that they must be some kind of computer disease. Whatever they were, they were not good.
The Prehistoric Mouse, after describing how life will be in Ratanada, paused; then, speaking in a croaking voice, went on and on about her plans to change everyone to look like a mouse. She was cackling about it now. “Look at yourselves in the mirror, friends, that cat you see will soon be a mouse. Think about it, you will smell like a mouse and even think like a mouse. Say goodbye to your long silky fur. Say goodbye to your life of ease as a house pet. Say goodbye to it all. Soon you will be a tiny little creature with a long tail that has to spend every minute of the day hunting for scraps of food for themselves and their families. And all the while the humans are trying to kill you. They’ll try to poison you, they’ll try to trap you, and they’ll even try to kill you with a broom or anything they can grab. Your life will become that of the hunted. You will no longer be the hunter. Think about it, friends! Hehh heh heh,” she cackled.
She advised that she was a Queen in her own domain and that she had the power to do it once the subject was in her domain.
Rascal shrugged and replied quietly (or he hoped that he was quiet), “Just where is her domain. Obviously somewhere out in cyber space. Do not worry, friends, once this computer is turned off we will be safe from this evil queen.”
“Yeah,” sighed Sofia. “Who would want to go to her creepy domain anyway?”
Philosopher cleared his throat. The last thing they needed was to go into a panic. He did his best to sound reassuring to his friends. “Calm down. Prehistoric Mice do not exist, it was somebody’s joke playing on our imagination.”
“Or maybe just an energetic copy of the old events like in the case of ghosts,” tuned in Dandy.
“Or,” Philosopher added, “maybe it’s real and she can do what she says.”
……
Just before the end of the night when Rascal began to tire of escapes from the French Revolution and then a few Russian revolutions, and another revolution, he met two animals that looked like lizards with wings near his food bowl. One was white, the other was gray. Rascal knew that they were dragons, they must be dragons. He had read lots of books about them and, trying to be nice, asked, “Who are you?”
“We are Dragonets,” answered the white mini dragon, puffing fire from his mouth.
“Don’t do that, Draco!” yelled the gray one.
“Do not shout, my sister, I know our mom said not to do that with strangers,” he admitted huskily.
Rascal looked at them with surprise and to stop a quarrel he asked, “Where are you from, Draco?”
“I’m from Dragonland, but I don’t know where my sister is from,” he said jokingly, of course. “She is my sister but I wish she wasn’t. She always complains about the cold and snow and she does not eat ice-cream and I love ice-cream so much. I never caught a cold.”
“We are Firedrake – it means fire breathing dragons,” Dracolina, his sister, tried to explain. “Let’s fly, my brother, our mom will be worried about us.”
And with the first light of dawn the mini fire dragons were gone, and the room looked like a field after a battle. Water covered the floor, there was no food in the bowls and things were a mess everywhere.
The next evening right after midnight Draco and Dracolina came silently up to the window and gave Rascal a present, something nicely tied up in red paper with an orange ribbon.
“You can have it. It is an egg,” puffed Draco proudly. Rascal opened the paper. It looked like a pumpkin.
…..
“My goodness,” murmured Sofia, approaching. “It’s a dragooooon! Help! Help! It will eat all of us.” She finished with a high meow and hid behind the bookcase.
The baby fire dragon uttered a low growl, deep and threatening, then yawned and fell asleep. The cats were talking about the new arrival, that was still asleep, only the tip of his tail twitched in his dreams. The cats looked around and exchanged uneasy glances.
“Where are his parents?” murmured Dandy, with Snow behind him.
Sofia was lamenting that she smelled more problems, then she looked at the baby fire dragon with concern but the dragon was still sleeping peacefully and had merely turned his head over to the other side.
The next day the fire dragon was double his size. He loved the cats’ food and soon the cats had nothing left to eat.
“We are going to die of hunger,” complained Sofia.
“I thought so, too!” nodded Snow in agreement.
Sure enough, after a while it looked like the cats’ food was not enough for the dragon and he started to fly all over the house.
“Do not go to the bathroom, they’ve put a fresh new coat on the bathtub!” cautioned Rascal, but the dragon flew just inside the bathtub where he was attracted by the shiny surface and got stuck to the white enamel that freshly coated the tub. The cats tried to rescue the dragon but they got stuck too. Rascal was the first to climb out of that sticky surface, leaving behind lots of orange fur. Then the rest of the cats and the fire dragon climbed out. All of them had some bald places on their backs or on their tummies but no one ever saw the bathtub! It was not shiny anymore but fluffy.
