The North American Cheese Race

1,300 Words. Yes I know I am over but I couldn't figure out how to shorten it. Sorry.

“Alright, let’s get the North American cheese race underway!” said the voice of a fat mouse into his thimble as applause broke out from the grandstand. “The rules are simple. Anything goes for the contestants. Outside help is forbidden. The first mouse to cross the finish line in the kitchen wins a lifetime supply of Monterey Jack and the title of North American Champion. The dangers in this race include mouse traps baited with American and Cheddar, obstacles throughout the house and a patrolling Tabby. Any questions?” Not waiting for an answer the judge continued, “Alright then when the gun sounds, go!” Behind the judge a team of mice pulled a string attacked to the trigger of a giant popgun. With a loud bang it popped and the race began.

“For those of you just joining us, this is Russell from Mouse TV’s copter, bringing you live coverage of the North American cheese race. The gun has just sounded and the four contestants are off. They have left the bedroom and are working their way downstairs. It looks like the Russian mouse Vladimir has taken an early lead and is going for the direct approach working his way slowly down the stairs. The Chinese mouse Mijin is also trying the stairs, although she does not seem to have the strength of Vladimir. Looks like the other two contestants Germany’s Heinrich and hometown favorite America’s Mitch are going to navigate the vent system.”

“The cheese will be mine Mitch,” said Heinrich as he slammed his bigger furry body against Mitch forcing him into the vent wall. It was enough to give Heinrich the lead and make Mitch squeal in anger. They scurried through the vent as fast as their small bodies could. The dusty vent soon split into two directions, both forming a slide downward. “See you at the finish,” said Heinrich as he slid on his back down the vent going right. His little legs flailed in the air.

“Not if I get there first,” replied Mitch to the air going down the left vent.

“It looks like Mitch and Heinrich are still in the vent system but it seems Vladimir has finally made it down the last stair,” commentated Russell. “Mijin is still only halfway down and Vladimir maintains his lead as he scurries across the hard wood floor. Ooh, what is this? It seems Vladimir scurried a little to fast on the floor and went sliding right into a table leg. And he is not moving! What an upset.”

Meanwhile Heinrich and Mitch continued sliding down the vent system, their fur burning from the friction as they had no control. Finally, Mitch emerged from a vent touching the carpeted living room floor. Sniffing the air, he could smell Heinrich somewhere nearby. Suddenly, a giant wire mesh trashcan fell down over him. Looking through the mesh he could see Heinrich on a piano bench above. Waving one paw in the air he said, “Better luck next time,” before hopping to the floor and scurrying his way to the kitchen.

“Looks like Mijin has made it down the stairs and is panting heavily,” commented Russell. “She does not have the endurance of Vladimir and was a surprise contestant in this final race, barely beating out England’s Lyon in the preliminaries.” Mijin stopping at the base of the steps sniffed the air. Drawn by the aroma she scurried down the hallway, the helicopter following. “This cannot be good for Mijin. It looks like she has been entranced by the smell of Cheddar.”

There before her was Cheddar and American, both sitting on separate mousetraps. She knew she shouldn’t but she was so hungry. After all she had just climbed down a flight of steps. “If my sisters can do it, so can I,” she thought as she approached the Cheddar baited mousetrap. “No longer will they mock me for this.” She made a lunge for the cheese, grabbed it and slipped. The spring snapped and Mijin had one final moment of realization that she was not her sisters’ equal after all. She felt nothing more.

“It’s a sad day race fans. I’m sorry to say that Mijin was lured by the Cheddar mousetrap and got caught. It is too graphic to describe to you. However, we do have a special broadcast after this race called, ‘Ten ways to avoid mousetrap temptation’ to help yourselves avoid Mijin’s fate.” With barely a pause Russell continued, “Let’s see if we can find the final two racers.” The puttering of the copter sliced quickly through the air as they scoured the hall and moved room to room looking for the other two contestants. “Ah, here is Heinrich and he is only one room away from the finish line. He is dashing now through the room and is at the kitchen entrance. Wait a moment, in the corner there. Yes, I think I see him. It’s Mitch! And he is trying to squirm his way out of what appears to be a giant meshed trashcan. And he is through the mesh but has a long way to go if he wants to catch Heinrich.” After another pause, Russell continued “Heinrich is now in the kitchen and the mouse hole is in sight. Yes, it looks like we will have a new champion.”

“Hold everything race fans. Heinrich has stopped a mere couple feet from the mouse hole. I don’t believe it. He’s showboating.”

“I am the best,” squealed Heinrich looking back at Mitch who was still far away. “I am the greatest.” He started doing a little dance and slowly strutted his way to the mouse hole knowing he was being filmed.

Russell in the helicopter saw what Heinrich could not. “Oh no! It looks like Heinrich is too busy showboating to see or smell the Tabby.

Heinrich suddenly felt all his fur stand on end. He turned around and saw a giant before him: A huge orange tabby cat. He could only squeal in horror as the cat pounced on him. Only the long tail remained, hanging limply between the cat’s jaws.

“Yet again this goes to show that showboating never helps,” said Russell sadly. “Here comes Mitch. Let’s see if he can avoid the Tabby.”

Mitch approached the entrance to the kitchen and could smell the Tabby in front of him, even though he could not see him. He could think of only one way to get by the Tabby. It was risky but his only shot. Mitch raced into the kitchen and straight toward an American cheese covered mousetrap. Any moment now he knew the cat would come. He jumped and managed to make it over the mouse trap, not setting it off. The pouncing cat’s paw came down right behind him, hitting the mousetrap. With a screech of pain, the cat waved his paw in the air attached to a mousetrap. Not wasting anytime he ran to the mouse hole and across the finish line.

Russell in the copter squealed in delight, “Mitch has done it. He outsmarted the cat and won the fifth annual North American cheese race. And this coming in, it looks like Vladimir is being treated and will survive. Unfortunately, the other two racers did not make it. Our thoughts go to their family,” he said with a sigh

Inside the mouse hole, the judge presented a certificate to Mitch and shook his paw. It was Mitch’s greatest accomplishment. At the award ceremony Mitch only said, “I am lucky to be alive and grateful for the Monterey Jack. And now that my family will have cheese for life, I would like to take this opportunity to announce my retirement from racing.” After the stunned silence, a party slowly broke out in the mouse hole. The race was over.

“This is Russell reporting live from Merry Sharra’s house signing off for Mouse TV. Stay tuned to hear from Sandra as she goes over the race highlights. Goodnight folks and enjoy your cheese.”

The End