07-FRESH CLAMS, ANYONE？

FRESH CLAMS, ANYONE? It was evening, and the red sun sat on the ocean like a cherry on top of a piece of cheesecake. Up in the sky, white fluffy clouds of whipped cream floated around. "What a delicious view!" I sighed. But just as I was beginning to enjoy it, I heard a mouse screaming. "Yeowee! That rotten stove is trying to kill me!" It was my cousin's voice. Thea and I rushed to help him. "What happened?

What is it?" we squeaked together. Trap was leaping around on one paw. "This rotten stove keeps jumping UP and DOWN like a teenage mouse at a Wild Whiskers concert!" shrieked my cousin, massaging his toe. "I burned my paw with the clam sauce!" He slumped onto the padded sofa to check out his toe. "Maybe you two can set the TABLE, at least," Trap continued. "While you've been up on deck enjoying the FRESH air, I've been busting my tail down here." He closed his eyes and yawned. "Must I do everything?" I gave the clam sauce a good sniff as Thea mixed it into the pasta. "Now I know why in medieval times they poured boiling oil on their enemies from the CASTLEWALLS," whined my cousin.

He cradled his burned paw protectively. "Why, Trap, I didn't know you were so cultured!" I remarked, filling my plate. My cousin smirked. "What culture? I got that from a cartoon on TV," he scoffed. "You can find everything on TV, you know." "Yes, of course you can..." I answered absentmindedly. I was sniffing at the sauce again. "Are you sure these clams are fresh?" "What do you mean, fresh? Of course they're FRESH!" Trap insisted. "Cross my heart." "It's just that they smell sort of like a SKUNK at a CHEAP PERFUME counter," I offered. My cousin jumped off of the sofa. "Are you calling me a liar?" he shouted. "I told

you they were FRESH AS FRESH can be! If you don't believe me, fine. I guess you just enjoy hurting my feelings!" Thea grabbed a slice of bread and headed for the stairs. "It's my turn to stand watch!" she chirped, RACING AWAY. I hesitated for a moment, then began to eat very slowly. "I don't think I'll have any clams after all. I lost my appetite," said Trap, nibbling some bread and cheese. At two o'clock that morning, I woke up with a horrible stomachache. I dashed to the bathroom, my glasses dangling off my snout. Seconds later,

I tripped over the bath mat, banged my snout on the medicine cabinet, and plopped onto the toilet. suddenly, I had a horrible thought. Could it be the clams that had made me sick? Just then the bathroom door opened wide. Looking half asleep, Trap peered into the bathroom. Then he covered his nose with both paws. "What are you up to? Building some kind of STINK BOMB?" he coughed. Thea, woken up by all the noise, joined us. She sized up the situation in an instant. "Spit out the truth, Trap," demanded my sister. "Where did you really buy those clams?"

My cousin was silent. He stared down at the carpet. "Uh, well, I bought them in the fish department... at the FROZEN-FOOD counter!" he confessed with a guilty look. "FROZEN?!" I squeaked. "But you told me they were fresh clams!" Trap stood up straight. "Well, yes, of course they were fresh... at one time. The FROZEN clams were, um, a special offer. The mouse who sold them to me last month told me to eat them that same day or they would spoil... but, of course, I didn't take him seriously. You know these sales mice, they always tend to exaggerate," squeaked Trap. "Grrrrrr. Sales mice, my paw!" I cried. "Do you realize you could have killed me with that poison?! You should get