03-MY NAME IS STILTON, GERONIMO STILTON

MY NAME IS STILTON, GERONIMO STILTON My cousin might be annoying, but he does have a good nose for a story. An article about the Mona Mousa was the cat's whiskers. You see, I know a thing or two about good stories. I run a publishing house, the Stilton Publishing Company. We put out The Rodent's Gazette. Oh, silly me, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Stilton, Geronimo Stilton. I told my cousin to meet me at my office the next morning. Eight o'clock sharp. Twelve hours later, Trap bounced into the office without bothering to knock (as usual). He rested his greasy paws on my desk (as usual). Then he squeaked with his mouth

full (as usual), "Let's talk!" I noticed with disgust that Trap was munching on something (as usual). This time it was a multi-decker sandwich. Only Trap could eat such a super- stuffed sandwich so early in the morning! "I'll give you the dirt on the Mona Mousa affair," Trap began. "When the story hits big, we'll split the profits equally: 70 percent for me and 30 percent for you."

"You call that equal?" I asked, miffed. "Is money all you care about?" Trap grumbled. "All right. Out of the goodness of my heart, we'll do 60 percent for me and 40 percent for you." Just then, the door to my office flew open. My sister, Thea, the special correspondent for The Rodent's Gazette, came ROARING in on her motorcycle. "I heard what you two were talking about," Thea said. "I'll tell you how to split

the profits: one-third for me and one- third for each of you." "Why should we cut you a slice of the profits?" Trap demanded. Thea leaned on the desk, smiling slyly. "Because I know something about the Mona Mousa that you don't," she sang, taunting us. That didn't surprise me one bit. If something exciting is happening on Mouse Island, Thea is usually the first one to hear about it. Trap frowned. "ALL RIGHT," he mumbled. "We'll split the profits three ways. But I get to keep the television rights, and the movie rights, and..." Thea folded her arms firmly. "No deal, Trap. We divide everything equally, or I won't squeak."

Trap sighed. "Fine, but only because I am a true gentlemouse. Let's shake on it!" Just then, a voice rang out. "ME, TOO! ME, TOO!" I looked down to see Benjamin, my nine- year-old nephew, tugging at my sleeve. "Too late! There are no extra shares!" Trap said quickly. "You can keep the money," Benjamin said. "I don't care about that!" Benjamin looked up at me. "Please, Uncle Geronimo. Let me help you. I want us to be together!" I was moved to tears. "All right, mousie pie. You can help," I said. I patted the top of his tiny head. You see, Benjamin is my favorite nephew!