03-TELL US ALL, YOU RASCAL!

TELL Us ALL, YOU RASCAL! I stumbled into my office, still in a daze. What was going on? Was I losing my mind? Why was everyone picking on me? Right then, the phone rang. "Hello? Stilton speaking, geronimo Stilton! I answered, It was Simon Squealer. He was the most famous radio host in New Mouse City. His show was all gossips I hated that stuff. I mean, who cares about these silly scandals and rumors? I would much rather read a good

book than listen to that trash. So I wondered why Simon was calling me. "Today we are squeaking to Geronimo Stilton, best-selling author and publisher of the popular newspaper The Rodent's Gazette," the host began babbling. "Yes, you're on the air, Stilton!" he finished. I gulped. Me? On the radio? "D-d-did you s-s-say on the air?" I stammered. Simon just chuckled. "What a paw—puller. You're the one who set up this interview!" he laughed. "Remember you called me on Friday? You said you had some juicy gossip you wanted to tell the public? Some big secret about yourself? Well, go ahead. My listeners are waiting. What is it?" I chewed my whiskers, This was crazy. I never called Simon Squealer. I didn't have

any juicy secrets to reveal to the public. "I really don't, um, have anything to um, say..." I mumbled. But Squealer wouldn't let me go. "Don't be shy, you rascal," he insisted. "Come on, tell us everything. Every shocking detail!" I didn't know what to do. Should I make up some gossip? Should I come up with some terrible scandal? Nothing juicy ever happens to me. My sister, Thea, always tells me I'm as boring as a slice of plain American at a gourmet cheese shop! No, I couldn't make up a story. But I had to do something. Quickly, I grabbed a handkerchief from my pocket and I put it over the phone. Then I pretended there was static over the

line. "SORRY, I think we must have a bad connection," I lied. Then I hung up. My sister may think I lead a boring life, but today was not one bit boring. It was getting wackier by the minute. First an old mouse clocks me over the head with her umbrella. Then an old friend chews me out. And now this. I didn't know what to make of it. fclnef. Un-be-liev-a-ble!