Cheese Chowder for Four

I thought up "Patterson" and "Jiffie", but all other "Flushed Away" characters and settings Copyright and Trademark: Dreamworks Animation LLC; Aardman Animations

1 --

Probably the most prestigious hotel in "Lower" London was the towering stay with the somewhat confusing name, "The Underbelly Arms". The shutters to the presidential suite were enthusiastically opened by a mouse named Patterson, dark-haired and clean-cut in usual cardigan sweater, jeans, and dock-siders. Pat, as friends would call him, was normally rather reserved, but he had been looking forward to this trip for two reasons. One, it was his honeymoon, and it was no small effort to convince his new wife, Jiffie, to spend it here, worlds away from their native Nova Scotia, and in a sewer of all places. But the other reason was helpful in selling her on the idea: a solid degree of investigation had helped Pat find out that here and now lived his prim and pampered cousin, Roderick St. James.

As Pat surveyed the city, he could hardly believe it. What on earth would bring you down here, Rod? he thought to himself. This was a story he had to hear from the mouse's mouth.

"Honey, you will help me unpack, won't you?"

Pat turned at the sweet voice of his newlywed. Jiffie, a veritable poster girl, and Pat's childhood sweetheart, was picking her way through one of her whopping eight bags. Even though she was a full head shorter than he, he often stopped to survey her whenever he noticed her, which was well over half the time. With slightly off auburn hair, soft freckles adorning the bridge of her nose (that she hated but he loved), a white blouse and lavender skirt offset by a rather stylish brown and pink sweater vest, and sneakers to match, she rather fit her name, in Pat's own thinking. Her mom and dad had named her for the popular brand of peanut butter, her favorite food, but whenever he looked at her, and especially whenever he kissed her, he thought of a fancy, high-dollar pastry. You know the kind; one that looks too good to eat.

Jiffie turned her lavender eyes to meet Pat's green ones. "I appreciate the attention, sweetie, but my bags?"

Pat grinned. "Sorry, love. You know the effect you've got on me." He walked over and immediately selected a parcel hanger holding five pairs of her panties. Pat blushed as he dropped them. Jiffie couldn't help but giggle.

"You shouldn't be so modest, Pattie! It IS our honeymoon, after all..."

Pat walked over and slipped his arms round Jiffie's waist. "Good point." He kissed her soft, then long, feeling her relax in his embrace. "Eh, I hate to be a wet blanket darling, especially now..." she said with a funny smile on her face, half in a trance.

Pat set his wife down on the bed and sat between her and the suitcase. "I know, we really should get unpacked. But there's no reason we can't have fun while we work, right?" He began selecting items from the suitcase and handing them to Jiffie, who proceeded to place them in the nearby bureau. "If we start having too much fun too soon, we might not find your cousin. And I'd like to see the sights, such as they are..." Jiffie wrinkled her nose as she strolled over and shut the window Pat had just opened.

Pat looked at her pensively as he neatly folded a sweater and placed it on the bed. "Sorry, sugarplum. I really am. I know you think this is just a fool's errand, and a horrible place to spend your honeymoon, but trust me, I'm going to make it all up to you."

Jiffie came back over to her husband, crawling over the bed to hug him from behind. "Now, now. We settled all that. As long as I'm with you, it'll be wonderful! And besides," she paused briefly to peck him on the cheek, picking up the sweater and taking it to the bureau. "I'm probably more curious about your cousin than you are. What's he like? Really?"

Patterson had been somewhat evasive about Roddy's nature to everyone, including Jiffie. The Roddy St. James he knew was rich, well cared-for, a true playboy, and lonely to the point of heart-sick. Pat had been embarrassed for Roddy, and hesitated to discuss him for that reason, but finding out that he was now living here, he found himself at a loss to describe his dapper cousin.

"Well, as I remember, he's just as I've said, a gentle-mouse's gentle-mouse," Pat continued as he handed his wife the rest of her articles, one at a time. "But this environment, I don't know, just makes me think he's changed a bit. I mean, I hadn't gotten a letter from him in months! I don't mind telling you, I'm a little scared."

Jiffie eyed Patterson. It touched her that he was so open with her. She swore to herself that she'd never betray that. "I guess the unknown scares us all," she said, coming up to him and gently slipping an arm around his shoulders. "But I think you're in for some big surprises on this trip, Pattie!"

Patterson grimaced. "That's what scares me. And trust me, Roddy's brand of surprises are pretty scary..."

Jiffie held her smile as she playfully flicked the end of her husband's nose. "Well, we won't find out if we don't get unpacked, will we?" She took a shirt from him and turned toward the bureau. Patterson took a pair of pants from the bag, watching Jiffie's tail swing from side to side and smiling about his good fortune.

"Ah, blast! We've missed them!" A despondent Roddy smacked his fist into his palm as he walked slowly from the south pier ticket office up to the Jammy Dodger II. Rita was still amazed at how Roddy could bring class to a plain outfit such as the blue windbreaker and jeans he now wore. "I'd hoped we could at least have brought them to the hotel."

"You worry too much, Roddy," replied Rita, matter-of-factly. "He knows you're around, he'll probably come find you!"

"Oh, yes, that would be a treat," Roddy muttered, watching two of Rita's siblings, Madeline and Dylan, kick and juggle a football to each other across the Jammy Dodger's deck. The flushing from Kensington was major culture shock for everyone, but Roddy was certain that the shock was greatest for him. He couldn't dream of what Patterson must already be thinking. He almost chuckled at a mental picture of himself looking much like the strange fish-and-chips captain who led him to the first Jammy Dodger so many months ago. He shook his head briefly and returned to the present.

"I'd just hoped to, you know, explain things to him gently..."

"You mean, soften the blow?"

"Please, Rita, you know that neither you nor your family and friends qualify as a blow."

"Sure we do! Roddy, I have thirty brothers and sisters! THIRTY! And probably counting, if I know Mum and Dad. C'mon, that's five Brady Bunches!"

"Oh, so what? I must have had that many back at Kensington."

"Oh, ha-ha," shot Rita. "I'm referring to the variety of relatives that's not cast plastic, Roddy St. James of Kensington." Roddy grinned the sheepish grin that had so grown on Rita as she continued. "I've got no hang-ups about being unusual. It's who I am. Trust me, puttin' on airs only gets you trouble."

"I've learned my lesson about that kind of action, believe me," Roddy remembered the horrible flushed feeling he had in trying to save face by pretending Sid was his brother, only to find that he and Rita were acquainted. "I just want him to have a smashing time. You don't get many honeymoons in a lifetime, well, not normally, anyway!"

Rita raised her hands in mock surrender. "You'll get no complaints from me! You know I love a good party. Besides, I'm so excited!" She impulsively hugged her first mate tightly. "I'm finally going to meet some of your family."

Roddy squeezed her gently as he replied. "Yep, it should be quite a party, all right..."

Editor's note: It might help you fellow authors to know that a lot of the Malone kids' names are written on Pop Malone's body cast. [That's where I got Madeline and Dylan :-)