Felisha and The Ratchets of NIMH

The Stealing

Felisha Frisby woke up and immediately felt that something was wrong. She looked around her bright pink room and saw that something was missing, no, something was stolen.

"MY WEAVE!!!" The weave her boyfriend had bought for her not even a week ago had been stolen. She left her bedroom and saw her 4 children playing Mouse Trap on the floor. "Teresa, Cynthia which one of you biches stole my weave?!?!" Teresa and Cynthia both looked at each other and shook their heads in unison.

"We don't know who stole your weave mum. Have you pissed anyone of lately?" Felisha gave her daughter an eerie look.

"Well duh she has. When does she not piss someone off?" Felisha gave the same look again but this time it was directed to Cynthia.

"Well, I told Mr. Ages to put sleeping powder in his own food for once. Maybe he took it?"

"Mr Ages wouldn't do that." Stated Timothy. "He's too civil."

"Very well, then who took it?"

"Maybe it was...um...you know."

"No Cynthia, I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

"We must not speak they're names."

"Oh, you don't mean-" Felisha was cut short by Martin.

"The ratchets? Yeah probably, when isn't ma pissing them off?"

"YOU MUST NOT SPEAK THEIR NAMES!" Felisha exclaimed with great seriousness in her voice. "You know what they did." Suddenly, scratching could be heard from a tunnel leading into the Frisby household. "Could that be the you know whos?" A brown mouse emerged from the end of the tunnel.

"Hello Felisha." It was Tyrone, Felisha's boyfriend. Felisha's husband had been killed by Drake, a cat that all small mammals fear. His eyebrows haunted their nightmare's.

"Tyrone!" Felisha trotted over and offered Tyrone a kiss, he reluctantly accepted. "Tyrone you won't believe what I'm about to tell you."

"I don't believe half the things you say so-"

"Yeah whatever, anyway, someone has stolen the weave you bought me last week!"

"Oh no, how sad, never mind."

"Tyrone." Said Felisha who now felt hurt.

"It cost only like 8 pieces of corn, I'll get you a new one." Offered Tyrone.

"NO! It won't be the same." Replied Felisha rather sternly. "I want that one back."

"So, uh, who took it?" The Frisby family shared quick glances with each other.

"The Ra-" Cynthia couldn't finish before her mother's boyfriend finished for her.

"The Ratchets. Really? The hell did you do this time?" Mrs Frisby looked at the ground guiltily.

"THEIR NAME'S! DON'T F-ING SPEAK OF THEM! And I know what I did, I thought it would make things even because of what they did."

"Hun, you know that the ratchets can't even. Tell me what they did and then what you did."

"Fine. Shut da f up, sit da f down, cos it's mother f-ing story time." The Frisby family congregated in a circle on the concrete floor of their house and awaited to be entertained.