Wednesday, December 15, 2004

 

The Walls Have Mice

The brains splattered on the tiled wall behind where Lebedev had been standing.

The bits of gray matter quivered there for a minute and then slid down the slick surface. As they piled up on the floor, a series of mice, cartoon mice drawn like Mickey and Minnie, carefully picked up the bits and put them in very small jars.

The hauled the remains of Lebedev’s brains to their mousehole and then through the mousehole into Disney World.

The Flying W has no idea that these mice even exist. He also doesn’t know that the mousehole is actually a wormhole that always leads back to Disney World. The mousehole closes behind them with a soft sizzle and a pop.

The mice have now reached the nerve center of Disney World, the server that keeps everything running—animatronics, rides, music, you name it. They dump the lumps of brain into a portal on the server racks and they are immediately slurped up. A few seconds later, there is a contented “burp” from the machinery.

Goooood, a voice hisses. Very gooooood. Go get more. And see to it that you don’t wake up Mullah Billdoug.

The little rodents adjust their pants and ribbons, and go back the way they came, whistling a tune from Snow White.

This time the mousehole-wormhole deposits them in Ambassador Negroponte's office.




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