Night 51: M81-90 Hallway

[vsyourface]

Scott didn't like the sound of that intercom announcement one bit. Granted, he was hard-pressed to think of one he did like. Maybe the ones that involved pancakes? ...No. No, not even those. By virtue of the man talking about them, those announcements were tainted. Those pancakes were tainted. Tainted pancakes.

Ew.In any case, it sounded like

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[ttly_not_a_rat]

"Spitfire and damnation!" Ratigan choked as he tumbled through the mist. Not only had his scheme to usurp the power of the queen failed, but it looked as if that miserable pipsqueak Basil was going to have the last laugh after all! As Ratigan fell, he couldn't help but grit his teeth as he imagined that stupid grin on Basil's face. The mere thought of it sent Ratigan into a rage!

And of all the things to be killed by, how humiliating was it that Ratigan was done in by the toll of a bell? Of course, it would be the fall that actually killed him, but said fall was caused by the mere chime of Big Ben! What's more, Ratigan's bell was now in Basil's hands, surely to be used as some manner of trophy on Basil's mantelpiece.

Ratigan couldn't help but pound his head in rage. After all the years of slipping out of that imbecile's grasp, was his eventual fate to merely be another story on Basil's list of victories? Just another newspaper clipping to be pasted in some insipid scrapbook?! The mere thought of it nauseated Ratigan and was almost enough to keep his mind off of his imminent demise.

Almost.

As Ratigan lamented his poor fortune, he crept closer and closer to the cold, hard ground. Eventually even Ratigan's rage was pushed to the back of his mind, leaving only the fear of his impending death. As the street rushed up to meet him, Ratigan shut his eyes and clenched his teeth.

"Damn you, Basil!" he growled just before he hit the ground.

And with a soft thud, Ratigan fell...into a bed? His eyes shot open and darted around. The sight that met his eyes was a strange one indeed. With its pale walls and plain furniture, the room that Ratigan found himself in was too mundane to be heaven and certainly too tame to be hell. "What in the world?" he whispered softly. Instead of landing on the harsh pavement of the streets of London, Ratigan had somehow found his way into a hospital
room of some sort.

A...reasonably nice hospital room in fact. He had even been changed out of his rain-soaked clothes during his little bout of unconsciousness. Had he somehow managed to survive the fall? No...that was impossible. Not even a human could survive a fall off of the clock tower that housed Big Ben, much less a mouse like Ratigan. And why did he feel...incomplete? With a single pat to his rear, Ratigan confirmed the seemingly impossible notion that, of all things, his tail was missing!

"What manner of trickery is this?!" he sputtered, simultaneously enraged and baffled, "First my bell and now my tail?! This is a farce, Basil! Not even I would cut off someone's appendage as a trophy!" As his mind raced, trying to figure out what had possibly happened, a part of Ratigan couldn't help but idly wonder how Basil's head would look mounted on a wall.

[ttly_not_a_rat]

And as the final nail in his coffin, Ratigan rested his hands in his heads, trying to focus while he pondered what could have possibly happened. But something was wrong. Very, very wrong. His face felt...smoother. Less...furry than normal. If he had been changed out of his drenched clothes, there was the chance that the staff at this hospital had deemed it necessary to shave Ratigan's admittedly rough facial hair, but there was no reason for his skin to feel this smooth. Wait...his skin?

"By the beard of Zeus...!" Ratigan whispered softly as he felt more of his face. He had been shaved completely bare! there was barely a hair upon his head, and what's more...his hands! They were...that of a human's?! What madness was this?! What sort of black magic had Basil used to transmute Ratigan from a mouse into a human?! As Ratigan sputtered and tried to speak coherently, he looked down at his body. There was no mistaking it. Ratigan had somehow been turned into a human.

Then, just as quickly as it had collapsed into chaos, Ratigan's brilliant mind focused, driven purely by his hatred for that imbecilic pipsqueak.

"Enough of this!" he growled suddenly, rising from the bed, a fist clenched dramatically in the air, "I know that this is Basil's doing, and I won't rest until I find out what boorish mousetrap he's trying to catch me with! Mark my words, you oaf, I, Professor Padraic Ratigan shall have the last laugh!"

Then, by force of habit, Ratigan grabbed for his nonexistent cape, swirled it in front of his face menacingly, and gracefully ran out of the room and into the darkened hallway.

[ttly_not_a_rat]

[to here.]