Foreword:
My idea took some time to mature, and it took much longer for me to get enough time to be able to follow through on it. I know that I am a bit late, but here it is.
I must apologise for my really rather cheesy puns (Oh no, yet another one!). I apologise too for the length of my story. I really didn't intend to write a book. Anyhow:
The tail of two cheeses:
In the Brieginning1 of this tail Carlow was sitting, feeling cheesed off with his new job. He said aloud “I’ve been through too much strain2 already. This is whey too limiting for me; I’ve gouda3 see some of the big wiede wield.” With that, he slipped out of his bag, off the shelf, and headed out in to the blue.
After setting out, he found the sun very hot and unpleasant. It was nearly midday, and after some time his limbs where starting to feel wobbly. It wasn’t long, however, before he came upon a pleasant creek among a grove of old, thickly-leafed trees. He stretched himself out, relaxing in the cool stillness near the bank. “This is the life” he murmured happily to himself. Just then he caught a slight movement above, and looked up. A large grey owl was staring down on him from her perch. This was dangerous. He slowly backed through the grass, keeping his eyes fixed on the danger at hand. Suddenly she swooped. His nerve broke, and he turned and ran for his life. With a jerk he left he ground and was quickly carried over the treetops. Carlow could see no way of escaping, so he resigned himself to his fate. He could only wait while he was carried, moving on and on over the landscape.
A small, beady eye was watching him, though. A red hawk had seen the prize which the owl carried, and decided that he had a good chance of stealing from her. She was probably sleepy, as it was the middle of the day. He trailed her, just out of sight. Suddenly he swooped in and made a grab for Carlow. The owl wheeled, furious at being attacked. He came in again, and as she struck out at him with her talons, Carlow felt suddenly weightless. Luckily for him, the owl had lost a lot of height in the brief fighting, so he only had the wind knocked out of him by the semi-hard ground. Getting up, he saw a white stone farmhouse just a few metres away, and made a dash for it, hoping to reach it before he could be caught again.
Carlow squeezed in through the door, which was ajar, over the doorstone and found himself in a large kitchen. The floor was of large flagstones, and the walls where plastered and white-washed. On the counter a cheese board stood. It was a difficult climb, but eventually he scrambled onto the countertop, breathless. On the board near him there was a lovely piece of cheese, who seemed to be crying. “Why are you crying?” Carlow asked. She started at the sound of his voice. “Hello,” she said politely while drying her eyes, “I’m Victoria. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”
“I’m Carlow,” he said simply, “and I came here to escape being eaten by two big birds. Why are you crying? Would you like to tell me what is wrong?”
“The mice have stolen the cat’s tail,” she replied, tears welling up again, “the cat has always kept the evil mice hordes at bay, but without his tail he is terrified of them. It was cut off a long time ago, and it was tied back on with string. The mice stole it while he was asleep. Now they are coming tonight to eat me, they told the cat so, and he is too afraid to do anything about it.”
“Isn’t there anywhere safe that you can go to?”
“No, there is no other place in walking distance, and there are mice everywhere after dark. I will be eaten, and you too, now that you are here. It is too terrible, what shall we do?” And with that she fell to weeping pitifully.
It Greved4 him, but Carlow had no words to comfort her. He looked around the kitchen, then made his way back down to the floor. He might as well look around while he thought. He looked at the oven, the cupboards, the table and everything else in the kitchen. He saw the cat in the next room, pacing up and down and moaning “What shall I do, what shall I do?”. Slowly a plan started to form in Carlow’s mind. The cat couldn’t fight off the mice, but he could help them get to a more defensible position, and also gather things which might help them keep the mice at bay. He went to talk to the cat.
Once he had got the cat (who’s name was Cheddar) to pay attention to him, the plan was quickly arranged. Cheddar helped Victoria and Carlow onto a high shelf in the tall, free-standing crockery cupboard. They then stockpiled potential weapons. The knives and forks in the cutlery drawer where too heavy for either of the two cheeses to lift, but they could be pushed off onto mice climbing up from below. Toothpicks they could use to hold to hold off mice who had made the climb up to the shelf, while the dishes themselves would scare mice on the floor as they smashed. When they were finally done, the sun was already low. “Where will you go, Cheddar?” Victoria asked.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay behind you two. It seems safest.” was the reply.
They didn’t have to wait long. As dusk set in, squeaks were heard from outside. Soon a crowd of mice strutted into the kitchen. More followed, cheering and waving Cheddar’s tail. For a while they ran around the kitchen sniffing, until some stopped at the bottom of the cupboard. Cheering again, the mice swarmed toward it. Victoria and Carlow caerphilly5 rolled a bowl over the edge of the shelf. It shattered on the hard stone floor, hurling knives and daggers in every direction. It was followed by a second, then a third. The mice where not going to give up however. Some were already two-fifths of the way up. A fork knocked one mouse to the floor and a knife took care of two others. Another knife and fork missed their mark.
Some time later the situation was much more desperate, and completely hopeless. The pile of cutlery was gone, as well as all of the smaller crockery. Mice crowded the edge of the shelf, and the two brave heroes where slowly being forced back. They could not hold out any longer. “Goodbye my brave warrior” Victoria said gently, as she and Carlow where forced apart. With a rush and some quick stabs with his toothpick Carlow pushed his way through his opponents, to the edge of the shelf. “Follow me, Cheddar!” he cried, and leaped.
All of the mice who were not in the attack were gathered together at the base of the cupboard. Carlow was completely surrounded. “We’ve gotcha gouda6 now!” a large grey mouse sneered, “did you think you could beat us?” Carlow did not answer, he only set himself and fought resolutely toward the middle of the mice. He felt teeth stab into his back, claws all over him, but he knew what he wanted.
“Cheddar, please” Victoria was pleaded, while backing away as she held off the oncoming wave, “you can do this; I know you can. Carlow knows you can. Please go to him as he asked, please.”
“I can’t” Cheddar quavered, “I can’t even move”.
“Just take one step” she begged again, “Cheddar, if you don’t we are done for. Please do ask he asked.”
Carlow had fought his way to Cheddar’s tail, and was holding onto it for all he was worth with one hand, while the mice piled onto him from every side. Suddenly Cheddar fell from above, scattering the mice, but they where on the attack again immediately. “Cheddar, your tail!” Carlow yelled above the squeaks and howls of the triumphant mice. With his eyes shut Cheddar bounded to the tail. He felt a surge of courage. With a tremendous caterwaul he turned on the mice, striking right and left. They scattered like the shards of a broken window. Tail in hand, Carlow jumped on his back, and together they leaped from shelf to shelf, back to the top.
It was all over soon. The mice were routed, and fled as far and as fast as they could. Carlow and Victoria were safe, and Cheddar was re-united with his tail.
Author's notes:
Cheddar had his tail sewn on soon after, so that it was always there to back him up.
I held all of the humans back while writing this. Whether Victoria and Carlow matured to green, and eventually black cheese or where eaten by humans (a distinguished end for a cheese) I don't know.
I apologise.
curds are strained. Yeah, sorry.
I can't apologise every time!
Yes I know, but it is just too poor to leave out!
What can I say but sorry?
When I saw Gotcha Gouda I couldn't resist.