Boom!

Boom!

The dynamite blew off my legs, but I could still crawl to the antidote. "Cover me, Private!" I yelled, shielding myself from plasma missiles with fallen henchaliens. The poison gas

shredded my lungs just as I injected the antidote. My aux ventricles kicked in. I wasn't quite breathing, but I was alive. Private Gamz blasted the enemy drones. I crawled toward

the exit door, found it was actually a laundry chute, and fell inside. Down and down I went, through an endless tunnel that seemed to go on and on, until finally I arrived at

of wind-up mice that howled like banshees and ran around the room when fully-wound up. Of course, I pocked three of them immediately so that I could

fill the mice's pock marks with that yellow cheese that comes in that square in the cheese and crackers snack packs. It was the only way to get the cheese past the billowy

cheese-loving harridan from number 87. So I filled my hat with mice, their pockmarks stuffed with cheese. The mice were drowsy with Old Madeira to stifle their sniffly squeaks and

they soon fell fast asleep. I shoved my mice-n-cheese-filled hat on my head & everything would have gone fine from there except that when the band struck up the national anthem, I

started tipping over forward. The mice all wanted to do that "pledge of allegiance" thing to blend in, but their weight knocked me over & into the bandstand! Every mouse escaped!