03-I'M IN L-O-V-E!

I'M IN L-O-V-E! My secretary, Mousella MacMouser, came rushing in. She was pushing an enormouse DICTIONARY on wheels. "Mr. Stilton! We've got to call the printer! I just found five misspelled words in tomorrow's edition!" she squeaked. I nodded at Mousella. "Yes, call the printer. Call the radio station. Call every mouse in

the city," I announced gleefully. "I want everyone to know. I'm in L-O-V-E!" Mousella gave me a strange look. Then she took the dictionary and scurried out of the office. "Crazy, lovesick mouse," I heard her mumble before she left. Just then, I heard music blasting in the hallway. I left my desk to see what was going on. It looked like a WILD MOUSE PARTY. Mice were laughing

and hanging out at the water cooler. Two mice danced by me doing the TANGO. Another mouse was making paper airplanes. No one was doing any work. Normally, I would be upset. I would tell everyone to get back to their desks. But today I didn't care. I was too happy. I was too excited. I was in love with a capital "L." Thea shook her head. "When the boss is away, the mice will PLAY," she snorted. Two minutes later, an elegant female mouse tapped me on the shoulder. She was dressed in a very expensive-looking cat-fur jacket and matching skirt. "Who are you? What do you want?" I mumbled distractedly. I was busy doodling tiny hearts in my notebook. "Who am I? Don't you recognize me? I'm

Kreamy O'Cheddar, your editor in chief! I've been working for you for the past twenty years!!!" she squeaked, sounding ANNOYED. I looked up at her. "Ah, yes, you do look sort of familiar," I nodded. I glanced at her outfit. "She wears expensive clothes, too," I murmured, lost in thought. "I bet she looks fabumouse in cat fur..." By now, the whole office was staring at me. I heard them whispering among themselves. Buzz, buzz... "He's lost it," someone mumbled. "Talk about dizzy with love," someone else commented. Suddenly, I noticed a picture on the front page of the paper.

"That's her! That's her!" I shouted. I was so excited, I could hardly breathe. I read the caption under the picture: "The young countess Stephanie oon Sugarfur, daughter of the renowned count Chester Cheesenip, arrived in town yesterday. The countess, who is staying at the Grand Cheddar Hotel, will be a guest at the embassy ball this coming Saturday." I drew hearts

around the picture. I was grinning from ear to ear. "Stephanie! Ah, Stephanie!" I murmured. My sister shook her head. "Geronimo, you're hopeless!" she smirked. "Absolutely hopeless!"