20-SUCH A PLAYFUL MOUSE

SUCH A PLAYFUL MOUSE... Crusher led me to my beach umbrella. The tag said: 313- GERATTIMO STILTON! I pretended not to see it so I wouldn't have to complain. Instead, I looked around. The beach was mobbed. The rat sitting on my left had his radio cranked up to an earsplitting volume. On my right sat Bratfur. Yes, it was that obnoxious young mouselet who had been sitting next to me on the plane, Rats! I had the worst luck! As he was leaving, Crusher pointed to the water. Then he shouted something, but I couldn't hear him. The music was so loud.

"What did you say?" I shouted. But he was already gone. Two minutes later, I got hit with a bucketful of ice-cold water. I whipped around. Then I sighed. It was Bratfur, of course. His mother smiled. "He's such a nice playful mouse, don't you think?" she laughed. I shut my snout. I was following my aunt Sweetfur's advice. She always told me, "If you don't have anything nice to squeak, don't squeak anything at all."