Home

Story goes a long time ago, like the day before yesterday there lived a mouse named Tripp. She came from a long line of prestige with all the trappings of wealth, but those days were gone. The mouse was the great-granddaughter of Captain Primus, a skipper of high repute until he disappeared while circumnavigating the four quarters of the globe with a crew of animals that to the casual observer looked like a reimagining of Noah's ark; or non-alcoholism cantina scene (wicked sick if this got done for a royalty free school play. Instead of being a tree or tooth a kid could dress up as something awesome like an okapi or an aye-aye that crows, "Aye-aye!"). Usually natural enemies these mates united by the crown jewels of their obsessive pursuit: a legendary basket and jar which presented the heart's desire of their master before they could even make a wish, and then spontaneously replenished the earthly goods over and over. An elephant trunk tornado over the ocean swept up the captain's ship and neither he, his assemblage of diverse recruits, nor a chip of wood from a plank of his vessel were ever seen again.

One night there was a bone chilling scratch at Tripp's door. A hooked claw slipped through the crack to pop the latch. Powdery snow drifted in small whirlwinds around the twisted silhouette of a bat framed in the entrance. The mysterious stranger scurried into the light to reveal hair as ghostly white as a dead insect bleached by the sun in a south facing window sill and smiled with broken teeth. "Brr. Dost this be the 'ouse o' Cap'n Primus' descendant?"

Animated bat appears at door

Home   Back   Next