Hey! Roxy Goth here. This is my first time writing house of mouse fan fiction, so feedback would be greatly appreciated.

I do not own anything relating to Disney in any way shape or form.

"Mickey!" From the entrance of Mickey's Mouse's dressing room came Pete's voice. Mickey inwardly cringed, what did he want now? However being the polite mouse that he was he saiid.

"Hey Pete! How ya doing?"

"I'm doin' real great! And I've got something to tell ya. Erm, what was it? Oh yeah – I'm challenging you to a bet."

Mickey looked confused at that. "A bet…"

"Yeah! I bet you I could run this place for a month."

Oh Pete, I bet you couldn't even run this place for a day, Mickey thought to himself. Out loud however he said. "Oh really, Pete? You sure you can handle it, I mean, it does get really busy, what, with the hundreds of guests we get, and of course there's the staff as well…"

"The guests are no problem; just treat them all the same and you're there. And as for the staff, c'mon, they can't be that hard to manage."

Personally Mickey thought otherwise, the only staff member he could think of that didn't have their problems was Minnie, although he might be being a little biased there.

"I mean." Pete continued. "All you gotta do is tell 'em what to do, right?"

"All you gotta do is tell 'em what to do?" Mickey echoed, disbelievingly. God, no wonder Pete wasn't a manager if that was the attitude he had.

Pete seemed to not catch on to Mickey's tone as he said. "Yep!"

Mickey quickly thought, and the inkling of a plan began to form in his mind. "Okay then Pete." He said slowly. "I accept your challenge, bet, or whatever you want to call it. BUT, I'd like to change it a bit."

Pete stared at him. "Change it?"

"Yes. Instead of you running the house for a month how about you pick a member of staff and try your managering technique on them? See how it goes."

"All righty then. You got any suggestions as to who to pick?"

"Nope, I'm gonna leave it all up to you." Mickey grinned. He did that deliberately, so that when things inevitably went wrong, it would be no one's fault except Pete's.

The cat in questions eyes lit up and he started mentally scanning through the staff. Minnie? No, he was scared of her. Clarabelle? God no. Horace? No. Daisy, he didn't think he could put up with her for more than five minutes. Donald, no, no, no. Max? Not unless he wanted Goofy watching him 24/7. Goofy….Hold on a minute…

"Goofy." Pete finally announced, after what seemed an age to Mickey. At the mention of one of his best friend's, Mickey almost opened his mouth to try to tell Pete that that probable wasn't a good idea before catching himself. Let Pete find out himself.

"Goofy?" He said, out loud. "Yeah, sure, okay then. He's in the kitchen, preparing for the tea-time rush. Want me to take you to him?"

"Nah, I'm sure I can manage it." Pete assured him, airily.

Mickey shrugged at that. "Knock yourself out. But I'm observing, in order to make sure you do it right. And we'll ask Goofy what he thought at the end."

"Fine, but don't tell him about the bet, he may act differently if he knows." Pete warned. Mickey mimed zipping his lips shut, and Pete glared, before stalking of to the kitchen, Mickey following behind.