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    Four Mice Deep Jungle

    Page 3
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    going to the Rio Mosquito?”

      she asked. Then she told

      me. It seemed Penelope

      had signed up to take some kind of special

      JUST SIGN HERE!

      36

      RIO MOSQUITO

      course. The course was only open to a few

      CHOICE RODENTS. Suddenly, she

      grabbed both of my paws. “I just had the

      greatest idea!” she squeaked. “Why don’t

      you come with me?” She pulled out a piece

      of paper from her bag. “All you have to do

      is sign this form!” she added.

      I didn’t know what to say. I had never met

      such a bold mouse before. Bold ... and

      charming.

      “Well, I’m sort of traveling with my

      family,” I began. I glanced at the back of the

      plane. My cousin was busy launching

      spitballs into the air. I pictured the vacation.

      Trap would probably be playing pranks on

      me the whole time. I’d end up with a knot

      in my tail and itching powder in my bed. I

      turned back to my new friend.

      “What kind of course is it?” I asked.

      37

      P.P. threw her

      paw around my

      shoulder. “TRUST

      me,” she murmured.

      “IT'S JUST WHAT

      YOU NEED. YOU’LL

      FEEL LIKE A NEW

      mouse!”

      Now I pictured

      myself in a lush

      green tropical paradise. Maybe we would do

      yoga by the pool. Or some deep-breathing

      exercises by the soothing ocean.

      “Are you sure it’s going to be relaxing?” I

      asked.

      “I guarantee it’s going to be the best thing

      for you,” P.P. insisted. She smiled

      flirtatiously.

      .

      . . o o h hm m m. . .

      38

      In a flash, she snatched up the form. For

      some reason, she had the strangest look on

      her face. No, it wasn’t a smile this time. It

      was more like a sneer.

      she squeaked.

      How very strange,

      I thought. Where

      had I heard

      those same

      words before?

      H

      o

      w

      v

      e

      r

      y

      s

      t

      r

      a

      n

      g

      e

      !

      “

      L

      e

      t

      t

      h

      e

      f

      u

      n

      a

      n

      d

      g

      a

      m

      e

      s

      b

      e

      g

      i

      n

      !

      ”

      I

      w

      a

      s

      c

      o

      m

      p

      l

      e

      t

      e

      l

      y

      c

      h

      a

      r

      m

      e

      d

      .

      39

      S

      o

      I

      s

      i

      g

      n

      e

      d

      .

      I left the plane. I had to find Thea. I

      wanted to introduce her to my new friend. I

      knew she would be thrilled to meet one of

      my fans. My sister calls me a bookworm,

      but I know she is proud of my success.

      “Thea!” I squeaked happily when I found

      her. “This is PENELOPE POISONFUR.

      She is a fan who has read all of my books!”

      My sister ignored me and turned to

      Penelope. “Well,

      did he sign?

      ” she asked.

      P.P. still had that same strange sneer on

      her face. “

      He signed it, all right!

      ” she

      laughed. “It was as easy as taking cheese

      niblets from a baby!”

      My mouth dropped open. What was she

      IT’S SIGNED AND

      SEALED, STILTON!

      talking about? And why did she sound so

      mean?

      Trap, Thea, and Benjamin were nodding

      their heads. “

      He signed it

      ,” they whispered

      to one another.

      Uh-oh. Something very odd was going on.

      What were they talking about? And why

      were they all staring at me? I didn’t like it

      one bit.

      “Who is he?” I asked, worried. “What did

      he sign?”

      Instead of answering,

      Thea, Trap, and Benjamin

      turned toward Penelope.

      She pointed her paw

      at me.

      “YOU have signed

      it, Stilton!” she shouted

      at the top of her lungs.

      “

      Y

      O

      U

      H

      A

      V

      E

      S

      I

      G

      N

      E

      D

      I

      T

      ,

      S

      T

      I

      L

      T

      O

      N

      !

      ”

      I gulped. What was going on? “But, P.P.,” I

      protested. “I don’t understand. What did I sign?”

      Penelope held up her paw in front of my

      face. “First of all,” she yelled, “forget the P.P.

      From now on, I’m Ms. Poisonfur to you!”

      My mouth dropped open in shock. She’d

      seemed like such a sweet mouse on the

      plane.

      “Don’t look so surprised, Stilton!” Ms.

      Poisonfur barked. “Just do as you’re told

      and don’t make a squeak. Now get on that

      jeep!” She pointed to a YELLOW TRUCK

      parked by the plane.

      I blinked. This was getting ridiculous.

      Who was this mouse? And why was she

      IT’S TOO LATE,

      STILTON!

      screaming at me? Before I could ask, she

      shoved a piece of paper in my face. It was

      the form that I had signed on the plane.

      “It’s too late, Stilton, you’ve already

      signed!” Penelope squeaked.

      I was beginning to get a terrible feeling in

      my stomach. I glanced at the form. It read:

      TO THE LAST WHISKER

      SURVIVAL SCHOOL

      “I’ve signed up for some kind of boot

      camp!” I screeched. “But I’m not the boot-

      camp type. I’m afraid of bugs and dirt and

      things that go squeak in the

      night. Plus, I look awful in

      khaki. It’s just not my

      color!”

      Oh, what had I gotten

      myself into this time? I

      decided I had only one

      “

      I

      t

      ’

      s

      t

      o

      o

      l

      a

      t

      e

      ,

      s

      t


      i

      l

      t

      o

      n

      !

      ”

      43

      TO THE LAST WHISKER

      survival school

      I, the undersigned, agree to take part in the

      survival course offered by To the Last Whisker.

      The course will last for seven days. It will take

      place in Rattytrap Jungle on the Rio Mosquito.

      By signing this form, I agree to obey without

      question all of Ms. Penelope Poisonfur’s orders.

      Should I refuse to take part in the course or to obey Ms. Poisonfur, I promise to pay a fine of

      one million dollars.

      Signed:

      Geronimo Stilton

      Tarantula Trail 115

      Rattytrap Jungle — Rio Mosquito

      choice. I’d have to make a run for it. But

      just as I turned to leave, Penelope grabbed

      me by the tail.

      “Get in the jeep, Stilton!”

      she ordered. Then she handed

      me a magnifying glass.

      “You haven’t read the small print,” she

      smirked.

      I read the last line on the form out loud.

      “Should I refuse to take part in the course

      or to obey Ms. Poisonfur, I promise to pay a

      fine of ONE M-M-M-M-MILLION

      dollars,” I stammered. This was

      outrageous! “But I don’t have

      one million dollars!” I cried.

      My paws were shaking.

      Penelope shot me an

      evil look. “Exactly!”

      she sneered. “NOW

      GET IN THAT JEEP!”

      H

      h

      m

      m

      m

      .

      .

      .

      “I’LL FIX YOU ALL RIGHT, STILTON!”

      I stumbled forward. I must be having a bad

      dream, I thought. I closed my eyes. But when

      I opened them, Ms. Poisonfur was glaring

      at me.

      My family watched as I climbed into the

      jeep. “Benjamin,” I squeaked. “How could you

      trick me like this?”

      My favorite nephew had tears in his eyes.

      “Uncle, it’s for your own good! I promise!”

      Thea nodded her head. “That’s right,” she

      chimed in. “You’ll thank us.”

      Trap winked at me. “The week will just fly

      by, you’ll see!” he added.

      “Don’t worry!” Ms. Poisonfur squeaked.

      Then she punched me hard in the shoulder.

      I winced. This was one tough mouse. “I’ll

      fix you!” she sneered.

      47

      “

      I

      ’

      l

      l

      fi

      x

      y

      o

      u

      a

      l

      l

      r

      i

      g

      h

      t

      ,

      s

      t

      i

      l

      t

      o

      n

      !

      ”

      The jeep made its way along a paved road.

      Soon the road turned into a beaten track.

      Then it became a MUDDY path.

      It was so hot I felt like a walking sprinkler.

      I was dripping sweat! Clouds of mosquitoes

      swarmed around me. They were having a

      party in my fur. I figured my tail was their

      dinner. They were making a meal

      out of it. What if they gave me

      some rare disease?

      I'M AFRAID OF DISEASES!

      We reached the camp in the middle

      of the night. It looked like an army

      barracks. It stood in the middle of

      a clearing surrounded by

      very tall trees.

      I’M AFRAID OF BUGS!

      48

      I was so tired. I fell onto a smelly bunk

      bed. I tried not to think about the fleas that

      were probably crawling in it. Ugh!

      I'M AFRAID OF BUGS!

      Exhausted, I fell asleep fully dressed. That

      night, I kept hearing Trap’s voice in my

      dreams. “Just don’t think about it!” he

      chanted over and over.

      At dawn, Penelope gave me a wake-up

      call. She poured a bucketful of icy water on

      my head! “LINE UP!” she shrieked.

      I looked outside. That’s when I discovered

      there were four other mice taking this crazy

      jungle course.

      I was about to slip into the green jumpsuit

      I’d found in my closet. But, even though I

      was in the hot jungle, I’d put on a clean

      undershirt first. I love my undershirts. I

      wear one all the time, even in the summer.

      That’s because I'M AFRAID OF DRAFTS.

      Unfortunately, Penelope was watching

      me. Before I could put one paw through my

      undershirt, she snatched it away and

      squeaked at the top of her lungs,

      DAY 1: MONDAY

      50

      1

      the article of clothing a real mouse Would not wear is the undershirt (2).

      answer:

      3

      u

      n

      d

      e

      r

      s

      h

      i

      r

      t

      s

      ,

      S

      t

      i

      l

      t

      o

      n

      !

      ”

      A Game for Real Mice

      find the article of clothing

      a real mouse would not wear.

      6

      4

      2

      5

      “

      R

      e

      a

      l

      M

      i

      c

      e

      d

      o

      n

      ’

      t

      W

      e

      a

      r

      52

      I cringed, then put on the jumpsuit.

      Penelope threw an enormous backpack at

      me. It weighed a ton. I’d be lucky if I could

      take one pawstep.

      Meanwhile, Penelope lifted her own

      backpack without batting an eyelash. Then I

      followed her outside.

      “FORWARD MARCH!” she yelled.

      We left camp and began our long trek.

      I introduced myself to the other mice.

      G

      e

      r

      o

      n

      i

      m

      o

      S

      t

      i

      l

      t

      o

      n

      “Good morning, everyone,” I said. “My

      name is Stilton, Geronimo Stilton.”

      A big, tough, muscled mouse nodded at

      me. He wore his fur in a crew cut. “I’m Burt

      Burlyrat. But you can call me B.B.,” he

      announced. “I’m a forest ranger.”

      Next to B.B. stood a short,

      round rodent. He clasped

      my paw. “How do you

      do, my name is Tubby

      Tumblemouse,” he said.

      Then he whispered,

      “My friends call me

      Furball.” I smiled. Tubby

      seemed like a nice mouse.

      I wondere
    d why

      he had signed up

      for this course.

      53

      Burt Burlyrat, RAT

      aka B.B.

      Tubby told me he was a cheese

      salesmouse. He had put on a few extra

      pounds eating too many samples. “I thought

      this was an easy weight-loss course. Ms.

      Poisonfur told me it would be like a mini

      vacation,” he explained. Sweat dripped

      down his fur. “She didn’t tell me we’d be

      forced to run twenty miles a day!”

      “W-w-what?” I stammered,

      sinking under the heavy

      backpack. “Twenty miles a

      day? I’m never going

      to make it! I’ve got low

      blood pressure! I’ve got

      low iron! I’ve got low self-

      esteem!” This was going to

      be worse than I’d thought.

      “Oh, how did I get

      myself into this mess?!”

      TUBBY

      TUMBLEMOUSE,

      AKA FURBALL

      54

      I sobbed, burying my snout in my paws.

      Tubby put his paw around my shoulder.

      “Don’t panic, Geronimo,” he whispered.

      “I’ve brought an emergency supply

      of cheese sandwiches.

      They’re hidden in my

      backpack.”

      Just then, a teenaged

      mouse with pigtails

      scampered over. “Hi,

      there!” she chirped.

      “I’m Suzie Squeakers.”

      Next came an elderly female

      rodent. She was

      small and skinny

      , with wiry fur.

      She wore a pair of thick glasses and a

      purple baseball cap. She introduced

      herself as Sandy Silverfur. Sandy was old, but

      you wouldn’t find her in any old mouse

      home. Not yet, anyway. Sandy loved to

      55

      Suzie

      Squeakers

      live dangerously. In

      fact, you could say she was a

      bit of a daredevil. She once

      went scuba diving off the

      shores of Tomcat Island!

      Unlike Sandy and B.B.,

      hiking through the jungle

      was not my idea of a good

      time. Within minutes, my

      paws were covered with

      blisters.

      Suddenly, a

      terrible screeching

     


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