23-5：30 A.M. BUNGEE JUMPING

5:30 A.M. BUNGEE JUMPING It had been a DISASTROUS day. I fell into bed, exhausted, that night. Tomorrow I'm going to sleep until noon, I decided. I'm supposed to be on vacation, right? Or maybe I'd just stay in bed the whole day. I fell into a restless sleep. The disco music

roared in my ears. At five o'clock in the morning, I was woken up by a knock at my door. "Who is it?" I mumbled. "Wake up, Gerattimo! Time to leave!" squeaked a voice on the other side of the door. I opened it. It was another muscle mouse. This one was even bigger than Crusher. He looked like he lifted weights in his sleep. "Did you forget, Gerattimo?" he cried. "You're booked for a bungee-jumping lesson this morning." I didn't understand. "WHAT? But I didn't..." I stammered. Before I could go on, MUSCLE MOUSE stuck a piece of paper under my snout. It read:

5:30 A.M.: BUNGEE JUMPING—GERATTIMO STILTON 7:30 A.M.: HANG-GLIDING—GERATTIMO STILTON 11:30 A.M.: DEEP-SEA DIVING—GERATTIMO STILTON 12:30 P.M.: ARCHERY—GERATTIMO STILTON 2:00 P.M.: FREE-FALL PARACHUTING—GERATTIMO STILTON 4:00 P.M.: DEEP-SEA FISHING (WITH SHARKS)— GERATTIMO STILTON 7:00 P.M.: ROCK CLIMBING—CERATTIMO STILTON MUSCLE MOUSE gave me a friendly slap on the back. It sent me flying across the room. I crashed into the dresser. I wondered if I was totally paralyzed or if I would be able to walk with a cane. MUSCLE MOUSE didn't seem to notice my pain. "Are you telling me you've forgotten, Gerattimo?" he grinned. I didn't know what to say. Of course, I hadn't signed up for such ridiculously dangerous activities. After all, I'm afraid of heights. I'm afraid of sharks. I'm afraid of pairing the wrong shirt with the wrong tie.

"Ahem, first of all, my name is Geronimo, Geronimo Stilton..." I corrected him. He smirked, waving the piece of paper under my nose. "What a joker!" he chuckled. "It says here, 'Gerattimo.' And, Gerattimo, we've already wasted too much time. Now, get dressed and let's get going!" I tried to protest, but he kept waving the paper under my snout. But there was no way I was going. No way in a million, trillion, gazillion years! Two minutes later, I followed MUSCLE MOUSE down the hall. I had fallen for the old "shake my paw" trick. When I stuck out my paw to shake, MUSCLE MOUSE had grabbed me. Cheese niblets, it was going to be one long day!