A MOUSE IN THE WAR ROOM!

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a short, 3-part fanfiction piece for the "Dr. Strangelove" fandom, featuring General Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, the War Room cast, & a very surprising (but nonetheless very adorable) guest character—the eponymous mouse of our story.

Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, & all other characters, elements, & properties belonging to "Dr. Strangelove" © Stanley Kubrick & Columbia Pictures. I only claim ownership to the story itself, the mouse, & my invented first name for Miss Scott.

When you're finished reading the story, feel free to leave a review. I'll take anything from simple comments to constructive criticism, as long as they're not flames or written in a mean, rude, or overly-harsh manner.

And now that my copyright-&-disclaimer is finished, let the fanfiction begin! Happy reading!

Part 1:

Buck's Discovery

The streets of Washington, D.C., were dotted with puddles—pint-sized lakes that rippled from the impact of the raindrops that fell from the stormy September skies. It was a Saturday, & many of the people who inhabited the United States' capital city were indoors—mainly to get out of the rain, but also because they had something (or nothing) to do, be it at the grocery store, the old tavern 'round the corner, the business office, or home, sweet home...

At one of the houses in a quiet suburb of Washington, D.C., General Buckley Turgidson—we'll refer to him from now on by his nickname, Buck—& his secretary / live-in lady-friend (one Miss Elaine Scott by name) were spending their time indoors by doing some fall-cleaning. They'd already cleaned up the bedroom, washroom, & kitchen areas, put away the dishes & silverware, vacuumed the floors, done the laundry, put all their recently-washed clothes in the closets & drawers, thrown away any stray garbage, & made the beds; now, they were dusting the newly-tidied-up living room, before they moved on to the last stage of cleaning (which was to take place in the attic).

Well, actually, Miss Scott was doing all of the dusting. Buck had been given an opportunity to rest & relax for a few minutes, providing him with a much-needed break after working nonstop for all morning & most of the afternoon. The only problem Buck had to face now was his constant sneezing & sniffling, brought on by his allergic reaction to the clouds of dust that flew up in the wake of Miss Scott's feather-duster as it flitted & fluttered back & forth, to & fro, in every nook & cranny of the living room.

"Dog-gonnit..."—Buck took a moment to suppress a sneeze with his hankie-covered hand, then sniffled as he stuffed the tissue back into his shirt-front pocket—"...Elaine, could you be a little more careful with the feather-duster? It's setting off my allergies."

"Sorry, Bucky," Miss Scott apologized, continuing to dust the room (but less forcefully). "I'll try to be gentle."

"Thanks, honey," Buck told Miss Scott with a smile (& another sneeze). "That really means a lot to me."

Miss Scott returned the smile at Buck, before going back to dusting the room. This time, she kept going until she was finished, & after she put the feather-duster away, she swept the extra dust off her hands by wiping them over the apron covering the hem of her lilac chiffon dress. Then, Miss Scott turned toward the pulled-down ladder leading up to the open door of Buck's attic, but not without motioning for her boyfriend to come forward.

"I guess it's time for the general to return to the front & assume his duties?" Buck asked jokingly, getting up from the living-room couch & going over to the foot of the ladder.

"I'm afraid so, Bucky-boo," Miss Scott said with a playful look, watching Buck climb up the ladder, until he crawled through the doorway & entered the attic. Getting onto his hands & knees, Buck began looking around for trash & junk to pick up, so that it would be easier for Miss Scott to sweep the attic without falling & tripping over something.

At one point, during his search, Buck pushed aside a small cardboard box to check for garbage behind it...but as he did so, he could've sworn he'd heard a noise—something like a high-pitched squeak, maybe? Curious to hear the sound again, Buck moved the box to its original position, then pushed it back aside--& heard the squeaking noise once more.

"Well," Buck muttered to himself, "idn't that the darndest thing...?" Buck pushed the box a third time (but in the opposite direction), then took a look at the now-empty space where the box had been. His eyebrows flew up in surprise when he got his first glimpse at what had been making all the squeaking...

Lying on the dusty floorboards, curled up in a ball, was a tiny, little mouse. The unfortunate rodent, who was covered in soft gray fur from head to toe, was soaking-wet (he had probably spent a long time out in the rain, before sneaking his way into the attic), & shivering like crazy—probably just as much out of fright, as he was out of coldness. (And to add to his troubles, the mouse looked like he had a sprained left paw, which he grasped at the wrist with his right hand to keep it in place, so his injury wouldn't get worse than it already was.) Poor, tiny, timorous mouse! Buck couldn't help but feel just a bit sorry for him...

Slowly, carefully, Buck extended a hand out towards the mouse, who, upon seeing it, tightened up into a defensive fetal position, shaking & squeaking even more than he was just a few seconds earlier. Undaunted & undeterred, Buck gingerly let his hand down to rest against the mouse, who gradually began to calm down when he felt Buck petting him & rubbing his hand back & forth over his body. "There, there, little mousie," Buck said to the mouse in a gentle, reassuring tone. "I'm not gonna hurt you..." When the mouse had finally relaxed, Buck carefully scooped him up into the palm of his hand, which he then brought up in front of his eyes, so he could get a closer look at the creature. As Buck started gazing over the mouse, he thought to himself, You know, that little mouse is kinda cute...

Unbeknownst to Buck or the mouse, however, Miss Scott was climbing up the ladder & into the attic, before going over to Buck, who was down on one knee, looking at something he was holding (though what that something was, she wasn't exactly sure). "Bucky," Miss Scott asked as she slowly approached her boyfriend, "what's gotten your attention all of a sudden?"

Buck didn't say anything in reply, but turned to face Miss Scott...& showed her the mouse resting in his palms. Miss Scott's reaction was not too favorable: "AHHHH!!!!!"

Frightened out of her wits, Miss Scott took a tumble backwards & landed bum-first on the floor, before scooting back as far away from the mouse as she could...until her back hit against a stack of cardboard boxes, & she could go no further. Miss Scott continued to shriek in alarm, however, shaking uncontrollably & flailing her arms & legs about in a wild panic.

"Shhh, Elaine," Buck directed, putting a finger to his lips. Miss Scott continued to freak out, though, & the little mouse became so frightened, he let out a squeak & dove head-first into Buck's shirt-breast pocket, only daring to peel out after a few seconds of hiding. He continued to tremor & tremble, however, while he watched Miss Scott screaming like a banshee & making a scene.

Buck went over to Miss Scott & gently held her hand in his, stroking her shoulder-length brown hair as he shushed her & said, "Elaine, honey, not so loud! You'll frighten the mouse!"

"You found a mouse in the attic?!" Miss Scott yelled, unable to control the volume of her voice. "Where? Where?!" She began turning her head & looking about in different directions, her eyes wide with fear.

"Over there," Buck said as he pointed to the place where he had first seen the mouse.

"Then, throw it outside!" Miss Scott pleaded. "Or poison it! Or call the exterminator! Just get rid of it, Bucky!" She took off one of the lilac high-heel shoes that went with her dress, & threw it across the room in the hopes of scaring the mouse. It worked...but the mouse didn't scurry out of Buck's pocket—he ducked right back in!

"Aw, Elaine," Buck complained, "you scared him again!"

"Good!" Miss Scott blurted, still distraught over what she had just seen. "And I hope he never comes back!"

"But, honey," Buck beseeched his girlfriend, "just give me a minute to explain..."

Upon hearing this, Miss Scott began to calm down, & looked at Buck with a quizzical stare. "Explain what?" she asked, letting her arms & hands float down to rest on the floor by her side.

Buck looked down for a second as he saw the mouse timidly crawling out of his shirt-pocket & climbing down into his open hand, before bringing said hand closer to Miss Scott's face, so she could look at the mouse more closely. "I was looking for trash to pick up off the floor, & I found this little guy lying beside a box," Buck told Miss Scott as he showed her the mouse. "Poor mouse was so miserable...all alone, & scared, & cold, & wet, & naked..."

"All mice are naked, Buck," Miss Scott stated flatly.

"Well," Buck said with a bashful chuckle, "you know..." He cleared his throat, & continued, "Anyway, he's got a sprained wrist, & I think he should stay somewhere safe until it heals, & then, he can go about freely again."

"And where would that someplace be?" asked Miss Scott.

"I could keep him here," Buck replied. "Maybe, in a shoebox, or something..."

Miss Scott was not too pleased with the idea of a mouse living with her (& her boyfriend) at their house. "No!" she refused. "Absolutely not!" She stomped her bare foot down, then crossed her arms over her chest & tilted her head up (with closed eyes) in firm decisiveness.

"Come on, Elaine," Buck begged, "can't you show a little compassion? Don't you feel sorry for that cute little mouse...with that little pink nose...& those little pink ears...& that long pink tail...& those big brown eyes?"

Miss Scott opened her own eyes, then took a long, hard look at the mouse resting in Buck's hand, staring up at her with those big, beady, brown peepers of his, & a hopeful smile on his face...Eventually, the power of cute animal charm won Miss Scott over, & with a bit of hesitancy, she finally relented. "Well...all right, Bucky. I guess he can stay." Buck & the mouse both smiled at one another, then at Miss Scott, who got up off the floor & made her way to the attic door, but before she began climbing down the ladder, she told Buck, "But the mouse has to leave as soon as his wrist is healed!"

"Don't worry, Elaine," Buck assured Miss Scott, still smiling. "By the time he gets better, he'll be out of here faster than you can say, 'Glockenspiel'!"

End Of Part 1