30-THE RATITZER PRIZE

THE RATITZER PRIZE Six months later, I was back in my office, peacefully working away. Well, actually I wasn't really working. I was reading the latest book in the RATTY POTTER series. It was so EXCITING I couldn't put it down. Just then, there were three knocks on my door. Before I could squeak, "Enter!" Thea, Trap, and Benjamin strolled in. They were grinning from ear to ear. "Guess what, Geronimoid?" Trap squeaked. "We won the Ratitzer Prize! For the best scoop of the year!" It took a few seconds for Trap's announcement to sink in. When it did, I fainted. I came to with another bucket of

cold water in my snout— compliments of you-know-who. But this time, I was too happy to care. The Ratitzer Prize! I could hardly believe it! It was the most important prize a journalist could receive. We were invited to a special awards ceremony. It was fabumouse. Aunt Sweetfur made the whole audience cry when she told them about Finding Uncle Grayfur on the deserted island. Then, to mark the occasion, we each took a nibble of cheese from the amphora. Yum! Afterward, we all had dinner at Trap's place. Have you ever been there? He lives in an old subway train that he converted into a cozy mouse hole. We munched on pizza from The Slice Rat. And for dessert, Thea surprised everyone with a

delicious apple pie covered with mounds of steaming-hot CHEDDAR. After dinner, I looked around the table and sighed. Uncle Grayfur and Aunt Sweetfur were giggling like two lovesick teenage mice. Benjamin was doodling a picture with his markers. Thea was touching up her pawnail polish. And Trap was, well, I'm embarrassed to say, he was picking his snout. I rolled my eyes. Then I chuckled. Ah, it was good to be home....