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Radio cabin

I wander into the radio cabin where I am delighted to find my old friend Angus, from Buchanhaven.  I ask him if he can transmit a message.  He says that, no, he can’t transmit a message, I am surprised at this, but he explains he is only sitting in front of a transmitter, wearing artificial ears, as he want to look like a mouse.  I wonder if Angus has being doing this job for too long, but he says that he is rehearsing being a rodent, as he has been cast as Mrs Mouse in the Buchanhaven Play, which is only performed once every twenty eight years.  He tells me that his father and his grandfather were famous Mrs Mouses in their time.  I ask him if Mrs Mouses were also known as Mrs Mice, but Angus says that that doesn’t matter, the point is that they set standards to which he can barely hope to aspire, so, turning things on and off with his nose, scrabbling around under the instrument panel and scampering around in circles, Angus explains that Mrs Mouse is a vitally important part of the Buchanhaven Play and family honour demands that he bring nobility to the matriarch of the Mouses, that he invoke grandeur as the mother of the Mices and provide dignity as the wife of Mr Mouse.  This is, Angus explains, nibbling the instrument panel, a role that requires a lot of practise and, therefore, he adds, scurrying around, he does not have the time to transmit anything to anyone.

Often, people think Angus is sarcastic, but the truth is that he is went nuts when Juan’s bagpipes exploded at Jock Black’s party and he was covered in the toxic seasoning used to keep the bags supple.  Sympathising, and realising that this does take some time to get over, I assure Angus that he will be the greatest Mrs Mouse ever to perform on the Buchanhaven stage and, even now, he could be mistaken for a rodent, by the unwary.  He looks pleased at this and says that, when he gets his tail, he will master the Dance of the Frolicsome Vole, I tell him that we all look forward to that and, wishing him the best of luck, leave the radio cabin, as fast as I possibly can.

Professor Humperdink’s Diary