It all started when our over-heralded star, The Black Rat, woke up in a secret vineyard. It was the third time it had happened. Feeling abnormally frustrated, The Black Rat backhanded a ninja star, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). Ever so extemperaneously, he realized that his beloved Spoon of Destiny was missing! Immediately he called his favorite bad hair victim, The Mouseanator. The Black Rat had known The Mouseanator for (plus or minus) 200,000 years, the majority of which were saucy ones. The Mouseanator was unique. She was congenial though sometimes a little... insensitive. The Black Rat called her anyway, for the situation was urgent.
The Mouseanator walked up to a very unctuous Black Rat. The Mouseanator calmly assured him that most albino cats yawn before mating, yet albino cats usually earnestly panic *after* mating. She had no idea what that meant; she was only concerned with distracting the Black Rat. Why was The Mouseanator trying to distract the Black Rat? Because she had snuck out from the Black Rat's place with the Spoon of Destiny only four days prior. It was a curious little Spoon of Destiny... how could she resist?
It didn't take long before the Black Rat got back to the subject at hand: his Spoon of Destiny. The Mouseanator shuddered. Relunctantly, The Mouseanator invited him over, assuring him they'd find the Spoon of Destiny. The Black Rat grabbed his hippopotamus and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, the Mouseanator realized that she was in trouble. She had to find a place to hide the Spoon of Destiny and she had to do it fearlessly. She figured that if the Black Rat took the 'modded' Civic, she had at least eleven minutes before the Black Rat would get there. But if he took the Tricycle? Then The Mouseanator would be abundantly screwed.
Before she could come up with any reasonable ideas, the Mouseanator was interrupted by eleven funny-smelling Road Runners that were lured by her Spoon of Destiny. The Mouseanator grimaced; 'Not again', she thought. Feeling concerned, she carefully reached for her dangerous oil-soaked rag and skillfully slapped every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the fantastic pumpkin patch, squealing with discontent. She exhaled with relief. That's when she heard the Tricycle rolling up. It was The Black Rat.
As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at The Salvation Army to pick up a 12-pack of ripened avocados, so he knew he was running late. With a heroic leap, the Black Rat was off of the Tricycle and went earnestly jaunting toward the Mouseanator's front door. Meanwhile inside, the Mouseanator was panicking. Not thinking, she tossed the Spoon of Destiny into a box of live hand grenades and then slid the box behind her George Foreman grill. The Mouseanator was angered but at least the Spoon of Destiny was concealed. The doorbell rang.
'Come in,' the Mouseanator surreptitiously purred.
With a quick push, the Black Rat opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some abrasive coke fiend in a hippie-pleasing hybrid vehicle,' he lied.
'It's fine,' the Mouseanator assured him. The Black Rat took a seat excruciatingly close to where The Mouseanator had hidden the Spoon of Destiny. The Mouseanator yawned trying unsuccessfully to hide her nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' she blurted. But he Black Rat was distracted. Just as zero people expected the Mouseanator noticed a stupid look on the Black Rat's face. The Black Rat slowly opened his mouth to speak.
'...What's that smell?'
The Mouseanator felt a stabbing pain in her chin when the Black Rat asked this. In a moment of disbelief, she realized that she had hidden the Spoon of Destiny right by her oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie.
A clueless look started to form on the Black Rat's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place.
'Th-th-those are just my grandma's ripened avocados from when she used to have pet 3-legged wallabies. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'.
The Black Rat nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before The Mouseanator could react, The Black Rat randomly lunged toward the box and opened it. The Spoon of Destiny was plainly in view. The Black Rat stared at The Mouseanator for what what must've been four nanoseconds.
Absolutely thrilled, the Mouseanator groped flamboyantly in the Black Rat's direction, clearly desperate. The Black Rat grabbed the Spoon of Destiny and bolted for the door. It was locked. The Mouseanator let out a eccentric chuckle.
'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Black Rat,' she rebuked.
The Mouseanator always had been a little funny-smelling, so the Black Rat knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before the Mouseanator did something crazy, like... start chucking ninja stars at him or something. Like a drunken sailor at happy hour, he gripped his Spoon of Destiny tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.
The Mouseanator looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from the Black Rat. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame six days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly she felt a tinge of concern for he Black Rat. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. The Mouseanator walked over to the window and looked down. The Black Rat was gone.
Just yonder, the Black Rat was struggling to make his way through the foxy forest behind the Mouseanator's place. The Black Rat had severely hurt his prostate during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral Road Runners suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the Spoon of Destiny. One by one they latched on to the Black Rat. Already weakened from his injury, the Black Rat yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of Road Runners running off with his Spoon of Destiny.
But then God came down with His outgoing smile and restored the Black Rat's Spoon of Destiny. Feeling concerned, God smote the Road Runners for their injustice. Then He got in His deliciously practical 4-door and sputtered away with the fortitude of one million 3-legged wallabies running from a misshapen pack of albino cats. The Black Rat jumped with joy when he saw this. His Spoon of Destiny was safe. It was a good thing, too, because in two minutes his favorite TV show, NCIS, was going to come on (followed immediately by 'When man-eating capybaras meet pipe bomb'). The Black Rat was jubilant. And so, everyone except the Mouseanator and a few bloody glove-toting legless puppies lived blissfully happy, forever after.