June 20, 1897

I can't stand it! I just can't stand it anymore! I have been completely sober for three hours now, and there won't be anything else to drink until tomorrow! The professor insists that we all have clear minds for his plan.

"Tomorrow you may all have as much beer as you please," he explains, "for then I will need no rivals in intellect; however, I need you all to be able to think reasonably today. We must make sure that no one leaves any traces of what we are about to do."

I shudder as I think of his plan. Treason!

Fidget is more nervous than usual. He knows the penalty for treason. He tries to obey the boss, but I know he'd rather be involved in robbery than a crime against the government. In fact, we're all on edge.

Well, not everyone is uneasy. Ratigan is having the time of his life. Tomorrow is his last day as the world's greatest criminal rat…mind! On the night of June 22, he shall become king, and the other henchmen shall become members of Parliament. No one would dare question the professor, so he will be like a dictator. No longer will he be a criminal; he will be Mousedom's new supreme ruler.

I wish I were drunk. When I'm sober, I remember my life too well, recalling painful memories. It hurts less to forget.

"Are you excited about helping take over the crown?" Bill asks me.

"I'd rather die!" I retort.

The others try to hush me. The professor does not take such statements lightly.

I suppose I am the most unusual of Ratigan's men. I never commit crimes unless forced, yet I am not bragging when I say I am a great favorite. Ratigan has referred to me as his best henchman, and I am well liked by the others.

Felicia meows outside. Ratigan tries to pacify her by offering her sardines, but I know what she really wants. She craves live mice the way I crave liquor.

"I know what you're hungry for, my sweetheart!" Ratigan croons. "You must save your appetite, darling! In two days, you shall have a lavish feast of pipsqueaks! There will be the queen herself, followed by the members of Parliament, and then any guards who stand in our way! Then I might have to execute everyone in prison to prevent correctional facilities from becoming overcrowded!"

She tries to be satisfied with sardines, but her facial expression shows impatience.

"How about a snack tomorrow, my love?" Ratigan suggests. "That should make the wait a bit easier."

Henry shudders. "I wonder who the snack will be!"

"We'd all better be careful," adds Lewis.

"Will you sing for me tomorrow?" the professor asks. "I need peace and quiet today so I can concentrate, but I feel like celebrating."

I wish I felt like celebrating. Surely if I try hard enough, I can think of happier times in my life.