Author's notes: A few pointers: 1/ I SWEAR the Mouse Trap
movie aired on TV exactly one week AFTER I had written this story. 2/ Apologies
in advance for the anachronisms and lack of contextual integrity. 3/ The
following four scenes would have taken place on board the Indy before she set
sail for war. 4/ Enjoy!!
Scene One:
Pellew takes a massive
undignified tumble, his pants split in his bottom, he grazes his elbows and
knees, and his hat goes skirting across the deck. Everyone witnesses this
happen and bite their tongues severely in order not to laugh. Pellew lands at
Styles’ feet so naturally Styles has to help him up. “Who…who put this thing
here?!” splutters Pellew.
“It’s the equipment the Pest
Controller brought in, Sir,” says Styles.
“Pests?”
“Aye aye Sir, to get rid of
rats and other vermin lurkin’ about. There’s a health inspection coming up,
y’know.”
“Ah so?” asks Pellew, and
then he remembers. According to the Occupational Health and Safety laws all
ships must undergo a Health Inspection to ensure they meet the strictest
standards of hygiene. The British Health Department recommended that all ships
instigate a Pest Controller to get rid of rats.
Then Pellew is angry the Pest
Controller left his belongings where someone could trip over them – like Pellew
did. “Where is he? Where is he?” Pellew demands. “There he is!” shouts Styles,
and points to a short, olive-green clad man wearing glasses and a shiny red
helmet.
“Ah, Captain my Captain!”
says the man and comes rushing over to greet Pellew. “I zee you have seen my
fab-u-lis equipment, no?” he says in a Spanish accent.
Pellew shudders with
Xenophobia. He hates accents.
The man in the olive green
suit introduces himself as Con. Don Con. He gives Pellew a demonstration
without asking him first.
He turns the machine on and
as he does so the entire crew, including Pellew, cover their ears with their
hands. It is as loud as an aeroplane.
“Zis” yells Don Con over the
noise while turning a switch “releases poisonous gases to kill ze rat. You
should cover your mouth with your hands – it is strong enough to kill a man.”
Pellew didn’t hear a word he
said but as the pungent fumes reaches his nostrils he instinctively presses his
face into his palms to block the smell.
“And zen zis,” says Don Con,
reversing the switch “sucks ze rat into ze container.” As the machine is now
functioning as a massive vacuum it sucks everything in sight – books, bolts,
coinage and whatever loose objects are on deck get sucked straight through the
nozzle Don Con is waving around. Pellew’s arm gets caught in the line of
suction and he has to practically throw himself on deck to prevent his arm from
being torn off.
By the time Don Con finishes
his demo Pellew is red faced and furious. “See to it that you get this job done
as quickly as possible and out of my sight,” he says in a white heat, and walks
off.
Scene two:
Pellew is confidentially
conferring with the other officers about a top-secret attack they are planning
to launch on the French. The attack is known as “Operation Bluebottle.”
“The Yoplait lies
here, here, here and here,” says Pellew, referring to the enemy French frigate.
“You three will go disguised as women. Mr Kennedy you will approach the French
Captain and ask him for assistance with carrying your luggage. When he is
distracted that is when you launch the attack.”
While giving these
instructions Pellew is frequently interrupted by the noise of the pest-repellent
machine coming from above deck. The noise is drowning out what he is trying to
say. Whenever the noise ceases for a brief moment Pellew resumes giving out his
instructions in a rapid-fire manner.
“We have some women -”
Blast! Blast!
“We have some women’s clothes
-”
Blast! Blast! Blast!
“We have some women’s clothes
stored below deck. We also have some -”
Blaaast!
“Some blonde wigs and some
bonnets. Mr Simpson, you will -”
Blast!
“You will watch Mr Kennedy’s
back. Fire -”
Blast! Blast! Blast!
“You will fire the first shot
as -”
Blast!
“As soon as the Captain turns
to attend to Mr –”
Blast!
“Mr Kennedy. Is that
understood?”
BLAST!!!
This last explosion of spray
from the machine is louder and more deadly than the others; it sends glass and
debris flying everywhere and the officers can distinctly hear crew men above
deck howling in pain. They can also hear Styles in the background shouting “look
what you’ve bloody well done!!!”
Scene 3:
Pellew rushes above deck to
see what all the commotion is about. “My God! Poor Devils” says Pellew, and his
eye twitches at the sight of men who have been blinded by the spray.
“He..he gave no warning!”
splutters Matthews, who narrowly escaped injury, while raising an accusing
finger at Don Con.
“I said move out of my way”
says Don Con non-apologetically. “You should teach your men to tread more
carefully.”
So Pellew, biting his tongue,
summons the remaining crew and warns them to be careful.
The next day, numerous men
are injured by the chords and wires that have been strewn across the deck by
Don Con. He claims he is laying the foundation for a powerful explosive that
will release toxic fumes and kill all rats once and for all. In the morning
three men trip over wires on the poop deck and suffer numerous fractures. By
midday another is electrocuted while climbing the rigging in the rain in order
to loosen the sails. Soon there are wires not only above deck but in the cabins
as well. One morning Pellew awakes to find a thick, black wire running under
his nose.
“Don’t move” says Don Con “or
you will release ze explozive.”
“But this is preposterous,”
says Pellew.
“Do not talk either or you
will surely set it off,” snaps Don Con. Pellew obeys and lies very still and
quiet.
Don Con keeps his back turned
to Pellew while he fumbles around in the corner with shiny silver devices.
After four pain-staking hours
Don Con mutters in frustration and says “Zis will not do. I must find another
place to zet zis up,” and he casually removes the wire from under Pellew’s
nose.
“Then…then I am free to go?”
asks Pellew, and groans at the submissive tone of his question.
Scene four:
Pellew is thoroughly enjoying
a very good dinner despite the incessant noise coming from above deck. It’s the
first time in six weeks he has sat down to a meal of fresh beef, roasted
vegetables, crusty toasty bread and a fine bottle of red wine. The dinner is
also attended by the other midshipman, including Mr Simpson.
“When will that Don Con
stop?” asks Simpson angrily. “Every night he wakes me and the whole damn ship
with that machine of his.”
“All in good time, all in
good time” promises Pellew, although he too is getting fed up with the
situation. Then he adds “but if we do not get our ship free of vermin and pass
the hygiene test we shan’t be granted permission to sail for war.”
Hornblower agrees with
Simpson and also with Pellew, but for the sake of not ruffling any feathers he
keeps his mouth shut.
“Besides,” says Pellew,
trying to look on the bright side of things, “it’s nice to get our ship spick
and span before she sails, don’t you think?”
As soon as he says this Don
Con comes charging into the dining arena and covers the entire food with toxic
pink fumes with one blast of his machine. Pellew sits, mortified, as he watches
the food being destroyed. Then Don Con turns his nozzle into Pellew’s direction
and dives under his chair, practically tipping Pellew onto the floor. “I must
kill ze rat, I must kill ze rat, I must kill it!” shrieks Don Con hysterically.
“Are you mad?!!” cries
Archie, and tries to salvage what precious little food is left by taking it out
of the room, but to no avail. The lavish dinner they were supposed to enjoy for
that one night is ruined.
Pellew has had enough.
“GET OFF MY SHIP!!!!”
he screams. When Don Con refuses point blank Pellew screams again and adds a
long list of very explicit swearwords.
Don Con refuses a second
time, but to his surprise finds himself outnumbered.
Clayton and Hornblower aim
their pistol at him, Pellew aims his rifle, and Simpson threatens with a
dagger.
Don Con screams in terror and
runs for his life with the dinner party up in arms pursuing him. He jumps off
the boat planning to swim away, but as he jumps the wire of the machine gets
tangled around his ankles and it drags him down to the sea like a heavy anchor,
slowly, slowly, never to be seen again.
“Got you, bastard,” says
Clayton.
*****