September 17th, 1993 - 6:03 AM

A spillage of numbers, symbols, and complicated algorithms flowed across the outdated monitor, a furious tap, tap, tapping of a keyboard a musical accompaniment to the madness. In the background, something beeped steadily, one high-pitched ding after another knocking at the air every two seconds. Several bottles and beakers hung suspended by their necks in a wooden tray off to the side, their liquid contents bubbling and boiling incessantly, all of them different colors of the rainbow - cinnamon, emerald, lilac, and azure. Rows and rows of books, large dusty tomes neighbors with fresh dainty novels, stood side-by-side within the innards of several tall, mahogany shelves set against the back wall. Still more shelves, steel-coated instead, lay strewn throughout the room, these ones encasing not just books, but various scientific tools, as well as cups of pens and pencils, tape, notebooks, and an assortment of other things. The entire room was dark and foreboding, the occasional dim ceiling light and desk lamp adding limited warmth to the place, with the two computer monitors shedding their own ghostly glow about the room. Piles of notes and here and there a forgotten and empty (and sometimes half-full...) coffee mug lay about on the computer desks, and there were probably more calculators - all different shapes, sizes, and models - tossed about than was necessary. It was an organized mess.

But it was his organized mess.

Globetrotter scribbled something down on a yellow notepad to his left, his right paw firmly planted on a computer mouse to his right. Light from the monitor reflected off his half-moon glasses, which tottered dangerously close to the edge of his nose. He swiftly pushed them back up onto the bridge.

Tap, tap, tap...

More typing. More note-taking.

"Yes...," he whispered to himself, the beginnings of a grin climbing up onto his face. "Yes!"

He slammed a finger down onto the 'Enter' key, and a train of calculations ran across an invisible track on the monitor, finally ending in a result that was much to his satisfaction. Globetrotter smirked deviously.

"Heh heh heh. Ohhhh, my friend. Are you in for a treat."

Just then, his eyes went wide, ears drooping suddenly.

"Uggggh," he groaned, setting down his glasses as he ran towards a heavy steel door, punched in a code on a panel set in the wall, and flew out of the room as the door slid open. When it closed behind him, it melded into the wall so well that no one would be able to tell one way or another that a secret laboratory lay hidden on the other side.

Down a long, dimly-lit hallway he ran, his shoes clapping loudly against the smooth concrete floor, 'til he reached an elevator. He slammed his paw on the only button set in the wall - UP.

"Come on, come on...," he muttered, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He allowed himself this - this undignified form of behavior, rocking back and forth like an absolute child. It was something he'd never succumb to in public, but here there was no one to see, not even any cameras. He'd shut them off long ago, knowing full well that no one would ever bother to monitor the basement. No one but him ever graced this area anymore.

After a full half a minute, the elevator finally descended.

Ding.

Globetrotter bolted into it as the doors opened, punching the 'Floor 1' button with unbridled voracity as he clutched at a spot near his crotch, face scrunched in discomfort. His head hung, an extended paw resting against the elevator wall as it ascended. He groaned. This was most undignified.

No sooner had the doors laid entrance to the first floor than Globetrotter shot out of the elevator like a bullet, practically skidding into the men's bathroom that, thankfully, was literally right across from the elevator. It was a shoddy design, but it worked well for him.

He practically knocked the door off its hinges as he barged inside, taking an extra two seconds to select the furthest stall from the entrance as he ran in, slammed the door shut, shakily undid his belt, and slammed his butt resolutely down on the toilet... and released.

He said a silent prayer of thanks that no one was in the bathroom to hear the sounds reverberating off the walls. It was embarrassing enough to deal with bowel issues, but for explosive diarrhea to come along with it every now and again was the icing on the expired cake. Most in the university knew about his issues. How could he avoid it? The students expected him to take a sudden pause during his sessions every once in a while. If anything, they welcomed it; less Globetrotter meant more time to goof around and breath without fear of being told off or sent to detention. And he'd learned to simply... deal with it. Rarely did the whispers come, and there was always at least one veteran student in his class to inform the newer sets about his strange, frequent disappearances. But it still bothered him a little; made him feel weak. Bested by his own bowels. Ridiculous.

Globetrotter breathed a sigh of relief as he let the last of it out, quickly regretting his next deep intake of air as he slapped a hand across his nose and mouth in disgust. Ugh. That was a smell that would linger.

Finishing up, he flushed the toilet (it actually went down this time, thank God...), washed his paws, and exited the bathroom, grateful that he didn't meet anyone on the floor on his way back to the elevator. Not that he would. Early morning wasn't exactly a time for many staff and students to be active. Nevertheless, he checked his watch as he shuffled down the hallway. 6:17 AM. Class would be starting in just a little over an hour. Perhaps he should abandon his private endeavors until a later time? He fixed to head to the second floor until he remembered he'd left his glasses in the lab. Groaning, he stepped into the elevator, pressed 'B', and headed back down to the laboratory.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

1:54 PM

The day passed without much deviation or interruption in anyone's schedule, save for a light altercation in which someone accidentally set fire to the kitchen microwave... somehow. Olivia was still collecting signatures on her excursions down the hallways and into the cafeteria during lunch time. She even took to staking a spot outside some of the classrooms when she knew a session was about to end, clipboard in hand and pen out, ready to attack any unsuspecting student or teacher. It annoyed some, but most took it as an opportunity to amuse the little mouse. Even the stiffest of teachers found it hard to dislike Olivia, save for Globetrotter. Even Basil was starting to warm up to her, especially after she complimented him on his magnificent violin playing, although he still wouldn't sign her petition.

"How many signatures do you have, Olivia?" Mrs. Brisby asked that afternoon, tossing the girl mouse a light smile as she stepped into her classroom, lunch bag in hand and carrying bag slung over her shoulder. Brisby always brought her own food.

"Fifty-four!" piped the girl, adjusting her tam-o-shanter as it fell down over her eyes. "And Mr. Pinky said that if I get to two hundred, we can show it to the principal and get a baseball stadium!"

"Hm. Is that so?" Brisby asked, still smiling as she set her bags down on the cherrywood table and unloaded several books onto it.

"Mmhm! Well... Maybe. He has to approve it first. That's what Mr. Pinky said."

"Well. I don't think that will be too hard. All you have to do is smile at him," Mrs. Brisby said, pinching Olivia's cheek. Olivia giggled. "Here: Something for Mr. Pinky." And she handed her a bright, reddish-green apple. "Just make sure to tell him Brisby sent it. I'm experimenting with a different species in my garden and would like some opinions. Oh, and here's one for you, too."

"Thank you!" Olivia said, pocketing both apples, one on each side of her coat. "Bye!"

"Bye bye now!" Mrs. Brisby said cheerily, waving at her.

Olivia skipped with delight down the hallway, for once not calling out for signatures. It was almost 2:00 PM and she had a very important appointment to catch. As she cantered down the hall, waving to Dr. Dawson as he passed by, not waving to Mr. Globetrotter as he passed by, she hummed a little tune, pondering what wonders might await her in Mr. Pinky's class this time.

I wonder if he'll talk about the planets? Or if we'll go on a mystery adventure! Maybe we'll build a roller coaster in the classroom... or fly to the moon! Oh, I do hope he has a cooking show this time. That would be lovely.

Her head was so full of thoughts that it completely clouded her vision - she didn't even see Mr. Pinky coming right towards her...

"Oof!" they both exhaled, shaking their heads and chuckling as they recognized whom they'd bumped into.

"Oh! Olivia!"

"Hello, Mr. Pinky!"

"Say, um, do you know how to get to my room?" Pinky asked, picking up a little case that he'd dropped. It looked like an old-fashioned medical bag. "I came into the school from a different side this time and got a little turned around! Heh heh."

"You mean you... don't know where your own classroom is?" Olivia asked.

"Well, it's a big school! Even teachers get lost sometimes!" At this, he bent down to Olivia's level, cupping a paw against his mouth as he continued in a whisper. "But don't tell them that. I think they'd be offended!"

Olivia giggled.

"Come on. I'll show you to your room, oh lost Mr. Pinky. Oh. And this is for you."

She handed him one of the apples Mrs. Brisby had handed her, taking a bite out of the other for herself.

"Why, thank you!" Pinky said, soaking his teeth into it happily.

And with that, they headed off, Olivia leading the way and occasionally throwing out a factoid here or there.

"I know every hallway in the school!" she said happily. "That way goes down to Bernard and Bianca's class." They climbed down a flight of stairs to land on the second floor, passing more hallways as they continued on. "And that one hallway goes all the way down to the nurse's office. That's where Mrs. Judson and I are! Oh, and that's the hallway that goes to the principal's office. But don't go down there. He's mean..."

Pinky took note of all of this in his head; or, at least, he tried to. Facts tended to flit in and out of his inner cavity a lot more often than he liked to admit, unless it was something he considered to be very important. He tried his best to tie down all of what Olivia was telling him to a particularly heavy, imaginary rock. Remembering who was who in the school was, indeed, rather integral information. What if he ever wanted to give Mr. Bernard and Mrs. Bianca a gift, but forgot their names or where they set up shop? What if Olivia needed someone to go with her to talk to the principal about looking over their petition? Even more important, what if a student in his class got hurt and he needed to alert the nurse? Very important, indeed.

Please, don't forget this time, okay? Pinky thought to himself privately. Please... He couldn't afford to. Not again...

They ran into Basil as they turned a corner. The faintest hint of a smile flashed across his face as he saw Olivia.

"Good morning, Mr. Basil!" Olivia piped up, stopping to greet him.

"Hello, Ms. Flangerhanger," he replied, riffling through a sheet of very important looking papers.

Olivia chuckled and shook her head. He could never get her name right.

"It's Flaversham, Mr. Basil."

"Mmhm," he mumbled, not looking at her. "I take it you're on your way to the nurse's office?"

"Actually, I'm helping Mr. Pinky find his class."

Olivia motioned for Basil to bend down to her level, which he obliged to, albeit reluctantly.

"He tends to get lost," she whispered into his ear.

"Is that so?" Basil queried, standing up straight again to take a closer look at this Mr... "Pinky, was it? You're... new here, are you not?" he asked, licking a thumb before riffling through his papers again.

"That's me!" Pinky acknowledged cheerily. "And Olivia's being such a help."

"Is she still going on about that ghastly petition?" Basil asked, although not entirely unkindly; it was almost playful.

"Yes! Will you sign it?" Olivia asked, not at all perturbed by Basil's mock reply, as she held the petition high up the air towards Basil's face, which, due to her height, wasn't very high at all. Even on her tippie toes she barely reached his chest.

Basil looked over at her and actually smirked.

"No," he said, giving a rather toothy, sarcastic grin before wandering off. "Good day to you both."

"Hm. He's a little stuck up, isn't he?" Pinky asked, staring after Basil curiously as he disappeared around the corner.

"Oh, don't mind Mr. Basil. He's quite nice when you get to know him. Come on! Let's go find your class room. We're late!"

And with that, Olivia took hold of Pinky's hand and led him onward down the hallway.

They passed Globetrotter as they reached the bathrooms. Pinky wrinkled his nose a little as the door swung shut behind the disgruntled teacher. Great swollen socks. It smelled as if something had died in there. Nevertheless, Pinky smiled and waved as he stomped by.

"Afternoon, Brain!"

Globetrotter shot him a nasty look, adjusting his pants and wincing as he did so. Pinky cocked an eyebrow in concern.

"Let's go," Olivia said in a hushed tone, pulling Pinky forward and past the restrooms.

Not ten seconds later, they reached his classroom. They were late. Not that it mattered. In truth, no one had yet signed up for Pinky's class, even though it had been a little over a week since he'd set up shop. Although many in the school talked about looking into the Trozology course, none had actually committed. Besides a majority of the pupils having very busy schedules that didn't allow for much free time, the main excuse, besides the nature of the class being rather oblivious, was concern that it would disappoint. It wouldn't be the first time a new teacher had come to town, toting with them the promise of a particularly interesting course, only for it to fall flat on its face and disappear or fade into obscurity a year later. "Someone," the students said, "has to take the plunge - take one for the team - and try Mr. Pinkus's class out to see if it's legit." Everyone was pushed to do so; henceforth, no one did. Only Olivia came to call now and again, and whenever she happened upon him he was either watching television, acting out some wild and wacky skit (which, unfortunately, she always caught the tail end of), or, on one rare occasion, sitting at his desk reading and staring at his family portrait longingly. Olivia just assumed that she always missed his busy class times. How could someone so fun not have any students?

"Hmm. Are all your students late, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, looking up at him curiously as he opened the door to... an empty classroom.

"Hm? Oh no! No, not at all. I just... don't have any students yet! Ha-ha. You're the first, actually," Pinky said, as he set his medical bag down on the desk and pulled out several items: a can of tuna, a HUGE block of cheese wrapped in non-stick parchment paper, a notepad, a couple of pens, and... a Gilligan's Island tape. "Got tired of the old ones," he winked at Olivia, answering her silent question as he set the tape down amongst his snacks and office supplies.

"Are you going to watch it?" Olivia asked, curious eyes barely able to see over the top of Pinky's desk, her little paws stretching to grasp at its edges.

"We caaaaaaaaan," Pinky teased. "But only if you'll share this cheese with me!"

Olivia gasped.

"Really?!"

Five minutes later saw them both sitting on hard plastic chairs in front of the wheel-in tv, munching on cheese and occasionally busting out in a fit of laughter at some silly antic that one of the cast members pulled. Olivia had already decided that this was her all time favorite show, even though she'd barely seen one episode.

"Mr. Pinky? Why don't you have any students?" she asked rather randomly during a pause in the show.

"I suppose it's because no one's signed up yet!" Pinky said, all optimism.

"Ohhhh. When will they sign up, do you think?"

"I don't know, actually. But they'll come!"

Olivia smiled. He seemed so certain that she couldn't help but believe him. She took another bite out of her American Cheddar.

"I'm gonna tell all my friends about your class," she mumbled thickly through a huge mouthful of cheese. "Then everybody will come, and they'll all sign up!"

"Awwww. Thank you, Olivia!" Pinky smiled, giving her a snug side hug. "I'd like that very much!"

"Hee hee. You've got crumbs all over your cheek, Mr. Pinky," Olivia chuckled, reaching up to brush the wayward crumbs off the sides of his mouth. He smiled at her. She smiled back. Without saying anything more, she hugged him back, both of them munching on cheese as they giggled and guffawed at the rest of the show.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

September 21st, 1993 - 5:32 PM

Olivia was true to her word. Anyone who was anyone was invited to enroll in Pinky's class. In Olivia's eyes, that included her best friends, her parents, a few of her favorite teachers and other staff at the school, and Mrs. Judson. All invitations were turned down; all but three.

As it happened, Mrs. Brisby was close neighbors with Olivia, her father, and Mrs. Judson. This meant that Olivia had friends her age to play with: Timothy and Cynthia, to be exact, two of Brisby's four children. Cynthia was a little younger than her brother or Olivia, by about three years, but wherever Timothy went she had to follow, and so Olivia got two attendees for the price of one. The third was Evinrude, a mute dragonfly and friend of Bernard and Bianca. He was something of a loner, but took to scouting about the city and popping in on activities that interested him. Like Olivia, he sometimes reported news, sending letters from one neighbor to another in their little district and occasionally pausing to watch the kids at play. He pretended not to care, but Olivia secretly liked to think that he cared very much and kept an eye on them on purpose, as a sort of guardian. So when he happened to flit by as Olivia passed out verbal invitations to Timothy and Cynthia, she invited him, too.

No can do, Evinrude might have said, shaking his head. He flattened one little outstretched hand, palm down, and made a waving motion with the other in front of it.

"Busy?" Olivia asked, hands on her hips. "But you're always busy!"

"You should come, Evinrude," Timothy agreed in his delicate voice, little Cynthia peeking out shyly from behind him. "Might be fun."

The little dragonfly rolled his eyes at them.

"We're all going to his class tomorrow. I'm sure he'd love it if you came!" Olivia said, handing Evinrude a small card, which he accepted.

He cocked an eyebrow at the card, then looked back at Olivia, then at the card again. She'd actually taken the time out of her day to hand-make little business-card-sized invitations for everyone. Impressive. The card he was handed read thus:

New Class!
with teacher Pinky!

ACME Arts and Scienses
Berbank, Californeea 90095

2:00 Wendsday, September 22

Evinrude cocked an eyebrow at Olivia again. She was staring at him expectantly.

"And you'd better not be late, hmm?" she teased, trying to sound at least a little bit serious.

Evinrude shook his head, looking off into the distance.

"He's going to have snaaaaaaaacks," sung Olivia, batting her eyes at him pleadingly.

At this, Evinrude looked back at her in interest. If there was one thing they found equal footing on, besides being delivery hands of course, it was a fondness for food. He bopped his head lightly here and there, indicating that maybe, just maybe, he'd show up.

"Excellent! I'll see you tomorrow!" Olivia beamed, leaving Evinrude to shake his head one last time before flying off, card still in hand.

"Ohhhh, I don't think he'll there...," doubted Cynthia in her tiny little voice, finally emerging from behind her brother's back to stare at Evinrude as he flew off into the sunset.

"He will. You'll see," Olivia said, confident as anything as she sat down in the street to help Timothy assemble a small bug-catching kit.

"He'll eat all the food," Timothy pointed out, snapping two parts of the kit together.

Olivia drew her attention away from the bug kit to whip out a bright red pencil and piece of paper from her pocket, which she slapped down on the ground and began scribbling away on furiously.

"I know. That's okay. I just want him to spread the word."

"The word?"

"Mmhm. When he sees how fun Mr. Pinky's class is, he'll report it to everyone in town!" she said, finishing up her drawing and whipping it up in front of her face in a flourish to show it to Timothy. Embedded in the paper lay a very crude child's drawing of Pinky, stick-figure-like, his paws outstretched as he shouted 'Yay!' amidst scores of little star-like fireworks. "And then he'll always have a full classroom!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

September 22nd, 1993 - 2:10 PM

Two o'clock came swift and sharp at Acme Arts and Sciences, but not swiftly enough for the kids. Olivia, Timothy, and Cynthia all waited against Pinky's classroom door, looking a little anxious. Olivia had managed to get a pass for her friends to enter the school for a couple of hours, thanks to Mrs. Judson, but it still felt a little awkward. Cynthia, being only four years old in mouse years, got bored easily, and Timothy was running out of ways to keep her occupied. They hadn't brought any puzzles or coloring books or board games, Olivia insisting that they wouldn't need them; Pinky's classes provided enough entertainment on their own. But it was 2:10 and he still hadn't shown up yet. Had she gotten the day wrong...?

Timothy picked carefully at a loose thread on his jeans. He'd need to sow that later.

"He's taking a while, isn't he?" he asked, looking tired.

"He probably got lost in the school again...," Olivia offered, ears drooping under her fat tam-o-shanter.

Timothy had managed to occupy Cynthia with a game of Jacks he'd brought, but he knew that it would only entertain her for so long. Already, she was starting to get bored of the bouncing ball, which kept rolling off to a far part of the hallway where either she or one of the others had to go up and get it.

A minute passed.

"Maybe we came on the wrong day," Timothy offered, trying to sound sympathetic despite his fatigue.

Olivia said nothing.

Five more minutes tip-toed by, one slow step at a time. Olivia pulled her legs up closer to her chest despite the heat. Were the hallways always this hot..? Maybe someone left the air on too long...

Timothy had shuffled a little, and was looking suspiciously as if he was about to get up and leave, when suddenly, from around the corner, Mr. Ronald Pinkus came flying, rolls of posters tucked up under his arms and sweat flying from his brow. It was unfortunate that the Jack ball rolled out of Cynthia's grasp right at that moment. It was even more unfortunate that it was Pinky's foot that found it.

"Sorry, kids, I- ARGGHHHHHH!"

Down he went... ZIP! ... crashing to the floor in a heap, posters flying everywhere.

"Are you all right, Mr. Pinky?!" Olivia asked, flying up onto her feet and rushing to Pinky's side. Timothy and Cynthia also stood, the older brother taking the initiative as he stepped up to peer at Mr. Pinky, a little concerned.

Pinky groaned, eyes rolling. After a few seconds, he propped himself up tenderly, shaking his head to rid himself of the little brie cheeses now dancing around him. Olivia held his head gently as Pinky rubbed at his neck.

"That looked nasty," Timothy said. "You need an ice pack?"

"You keep an ice pack in your backpack?" Olivia asked.

"No. But my Mum probably would make me if I could..."

"I'm all right! Ha-ha. Just broke a bone is all," Pinky grimaced, trying to look cheerful.

"You broke a bone?!" Olivia exclaimed.

"Ohhhhhh...," seconded Cynthia, hiding behind her brother again.

Pinky pulled out from under him something wrapped in a white napkin. Opening it up, he dangled from his fingers a broken chicken wing.

"Ohhhhh... you killed the chicken!" gasped Cynthia, covering her eyes.

"My lunch. Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Chicken Wing. I'll make it up to you, I promise!" Pinky lamented.

"Sorry about your lunch, Mr. Pinky," Olivia said remorsefully, head hanging.

"It's all right, Olivia. No harm done," Pinky assured her, lifting up her chin and giving her an encouraging smile. She couldn't help but smile back as Pinky sat up proper and gathered up his things, the kids helping him. "Now, who are these lovely people?"

"This is Timothy, and that's Cynthia. She's his little sister," Olivia pointed out helpfully, picking some of the dropped posters up off the floor.

"Nice to meet you!" Pinky said cheerily, shaking Timothy's hand and offering a paw to Cynthia, who nervously declined.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Timothy replied, perhaps a bit too opulently. "Olivia says you're quite the showman."

"Well, she would know," Pinky chuckled, taking the remaining posters from Olivia with a nod of thanks. "And there's more where that came from!"

He opened the door to his classroom, flicking the light on as he entered. A bulb popped out as Olivia stepped in after him. Pinky looked up at it curiously.

"Hm. Will have to get that fixed then," he said, setting his things down on the table.

Timothy slowly tip-toed inside, taking in the very plain sights and the very unusual smells (Gouda, some sort of leathery cologne, and was that... radish?), with Cynthia following behind him at a cautious pace. She didn't much care for the radish smell and wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant scent. Timothy, however, drank it all in. He rather thought it was an interesting blend of eclectic aromas and savored every one, eyes closed as he deeply inhaled, the whisper of a smile on his lips.

"What are we doing today, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, already by his side as she eagerly looked up into his face.

"Well, Miss Olivia, we are going to go on an adventure!" he said, unraveling one of the big, thick posters with a flourish.

Olivia gasped excitedly, and Timothy's ears flicked as he looked over at Pinky, intrigued.

"What kind of an adventure?" asked Timothy.

"You'll seeeeeee!" Pinky winked. "Help me put these posters up, everyone!"

And so they each grabbed a poster, save for Cynthia. She still wasn't quite ready to make friends yet. Everyone picked a random portion of wall upon which to paste their sizeable poster, but it became apparent, after a few failed attempts to open up what kept wanting to roll back closed, that something was missing.

"Mr. Pinky?" Olivia mumbled, struggling a little as a large roll of poster traveled down the wall she was attempting to lay it onto and bumped into her face, ruffling her whiskers. She sneezed. Even the posters had a smell: tomato, with a hint of garlic. "Aren't we supposed to have something to keep the posters up on the wall?"

"I concur," groaned Timothy, having just as bad of a time as Cynthia. He eventually gave up, letting the poster fall... right onto his little sister. She squeaked. "Oh. Sorry, Cynthia," he apologized, plucking it off of her as she shook her head of the smell, although this one she rather liked.

"Ohhhhhhhh. That's what I was forgetting!" Pinky exclaimed, chuckling to himself. "Just a moment!"

And he ran back to his medical bag, dug around in it, and pulled out a small clear case filled with push-pins. He set it down on a nearby chair, the better for smaller mousies to reach.

"Here ya' go!" he offered, taking a few in his paw and returning to his poster.

The kids ran over to take a look. There were many push-pins, all different colors of the rainbow: blue, purple, yellow, green, pink, white, and more. Olivia thought they were quite pretty to look at. Even Cynthia couldn't help but step forward to take a closer look at the dazzling arrangement.

"Ooooo. Pretty!" she remarked, stretching out a paw to grab a handful.

"Hold up, Cynthia," Timothy said, throwing out an arm. "Those are sharp on the end. You don't want to get hurt."

Cynthia's ears drooped at this.

"Here. I'll pick four out for you. Hold out your paw. Come on."

Cynthia did as she was told. Timothy picked out and set gently in her hand four differently colored push-pins - violet, turquoise, sunshine-y yellow, and ivory. The youngest mouse's eyes went wide.

"Be careful with them, okay?"

"Okay," Cynthia mumbled, only partially listening. They were all so pretty. She wanted the whole case.

Push-pins in hand, the quartet found it much easier to hang up the posters. Not all stood at the same height, as the kids had to use chairs to get them at least high enough that the poster bottoms wouldn't lay out on the floor, but Pinky didn't seem to mind. He was just happy to have company, as were the kids. They talked about their posters as they put them up, and after fifteen minutes of pushing and pinning, they could admire their work.

Sixteen posters wrapped around the classroom, painting the walls with numerous vacation spots, national landmarks, and beautiful landscapes. Some featured tall waterfalls splashing down into azure blue pools below; others seemed lost in a lush rainforest decorated with vibrantly-patterned butterflies; but most of them highlighted the beach. There were posters of alluring islands, sandy California backdrops, and palm trees set against brilliant sunsets. It was enough to make anyone want to jump into one of those appealing vistas right then and there and float away - get lost in paradise.

"What now, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, voice drowning in excitement and anticipation. Whatever came next, it had to be good.

"Nooooooow," prefaced Pinky, flashing his toothy grin, "We get out the boat!"

And from a far corner of the room, he pulled a large cardboard box; just big enough for all four of them to sit rather uncomfortably in. Pinky initiated, setting the box in front of the desk and jumping inside of it.

"Come on, everyone!" he encouraged, motioning them with a hand to join him.

"Woo! Yes!" Olivia exclaimed, hopping in and sitting down between Pinky's legs without a second thought. "Come on, guys!" she called to the others.

Timothy looked a little suspicious. He walked all the way around the box, inspecting it inside and out, before standing in front of it, arms folded, and tossing a very questioning glance indeed at the mice.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely!" Pinky confirmed. "Come on! You're gonna miss all the fun!"

"Yeah, come on, Timothy! It won't hurt," Olivia reassured him with a helpful smile.

"I'm not scared," Timothy admitted, squishing in to sit, a little cramped, in front of Olivia as he said it.

Only Cynthia remained. Timothy reached out both arms for her.

"Come on, silly," he invited, but she remained suspicious. Two little paws crawled up over the edge as she took a peek inside.

"Is it going to hurt?" she asked.

"Olivia just said it wouldn't, so come on," prodded Timothy again, and this time she slipped into his arms, taking a spot on his lap as she looked around, a bit nervous.

"All right, kids. You ready?" Pinky asked.

"Ready!" Olivia replied.

"Ready... I think." Timothy responded.

Cynthia said nothing.

"Alllll right. Start rowing!" Pinky commanded, and he began rowing the make-shift "boat" with imaginary oars, Olivia following suit, with Timothy hesitantly joining in a few seconds later. Cynthia simply sat there on her big brother's lap, giggling a little as she watched them all row.

"Okay. Now, clooooooose your eyes...," Pinky instructed. They all obeyed. Well, almost all... "Aaaaaand... OPEN THEM!"

They did as he was told... and GASPED.

No longer were they on the floor of an abandoned school classroom, sitting in a cardboard box surrounded by promises of tropical get-a-ways painting the walls. They were actually on the ocean, nestled inside a little white dinghy boat, and encompassed about by skies of deep blue, orange, and pink, with picturesque clouds completing the image. To their port and starboard sides, dolphins leapt gaily along with them, and in the distance, straight ahead of them, lay a magnificent island, decorated elaborately with all manner of palm trees, and promising a very grand adventure indeed.

Olivia clapped and cheered, bouncing up and down in her seat in pure ecstasy.

"I told you! I told you! He's a magician!" Olivia told Timothy with great exuberance, Pinky chuckling behind her as he continued rowing.

Timothy's mouth was agape in pure wonderment, his eyes as wide as saucers. How... was this possible? He said nothing as he stared all about him, head turning this way and that to take in the sights, sounds, and smells surrounding him, bombarding his senses, practically lifting him off his feet.

"Wow...," he finally breathed out, a smile crawling up his face. "This is so high..."

"Come again..?" Pinky asked, his ears dropping alarmingly as he slowed down his rowing to stare concernedly at the boy.

"Huh?"

"This is so... what?"

"Oh. High. Like... way up high? Like when you're up at the top of a tall tree and feel like you're flying? It's cool."

Pinky chuckled. He couldn't help it.

"You might want to use a different word when around adults there. Just sayin'."

Timothy cocked an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything against it. He simply shrugged.

Cynthia was the only one of the set who hadn't yet found the wonderment in the situation. As far as she could see, they were still in the same box on the same floor in the same classroom. They were all cuckoo.

"What are you guys talking about? I don't see anything!" she complained, turning this way and that on her brother's lap in the hopes that she might catch a glimpse of a seagull or a dolphin.

"That's because you didn't close your eyes, Cynthia," Timothy said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. You have to close your eyes!" concurred Olivia.

"Close your eyes, Cynthia, and only open them when I say!" Pinky said.

"Okay...," said Cynthia, doing as she was told.

"All right... Aaaaaaaaaand... OPEN THEM!"

Cynthia opened her eyes.

"Woooooooooaaaaaaaaaaah...!"

"Told you!" Olivia beamed, giggling.

"Are we on the ocean..?!" Cynthia gasped, jumping a little as a dolphin flew out of the water right next to them, diving back in with a splash and spraying them all with sea droplets. They shook their fur, laughing.

"We most certainly are! Do you like it?" Pinky asked, just a tinge of uncertainty peppering his tone.

Cynthia had to think about this for two whole seconds. Then she blurted out her answer.

"YES!"

Pinky smiled.

"Are we going all the way to that island?" Olivia asked, pointing to the floating figure seemingly miles ahead of them.

"You betcha! And we'll need music to do it."

Out of nowhere, he pulled out a small boombox, clicked "Play" on the top for the CD player, and out belted a familiar tune. Both Pinky and Olivia started singing it right away, with Timothy and Cynthia joining in to hum along with the tune.

Just sit right back,
And you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip,
That started from this tropic port,
Aboard this tiny ship...

At the start of the music, the boat zoomed off of its own accord towards the island, powered by the wind, the sea, and the song.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

4:00 PM

The kids left classroom 210 with spirits high and hearts glowing. Olivia thanked Pinky over and over again, Timothy was still commenting on how their adventure felt like something right out of a movie, and Cynthia lamented that she couldn't keep the little hulu skirt she'd strung. One's imagination, it seemed, could only take things so far. Nothing they physically created in the classroom could be brought outside of it. Once they stepped off the island, all manner of sun, sea, and sand was gone, including anything they'd gathered or made on the island. The box was just a box; the floor just a floor; the posters just posters. It was as if none of it had ever happened. But the memories remained.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Pinky!" Olivia thanked him for the thousandth time. "I'll bring more next time!"

"No worries, Olivia! Shall I put you all down on my class list then?" Pinky asked, whipping out a clipboard, complete with paper and pen, and holding the pen at the ready.

"Yes, please! You're coming again, right?" she asked her friends.

Timothy thought for a moment. As exciting as it all had been, one had to be practical, after all; at least, Timothy did.

"Well, as long as our Mum says it's all right, then I suppose that would be fine," he conceded, smiling. "I'll go ask her. I think she's working today."

"Oh, please, can we? I wanna go back to the island!" Cynthia squeaked, bouncing up and down as she pulled at Timothy's shirt sleeve.

"We will, as long as Mum says it's okay."

"We'd better go. Will we see you tomorrow, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked hopefully.

"2:00 o'clock sharp," Pinky said, winking at her.

Off they went, leaving Pinky behind to stare after them fondly. He smiled and went back into his classroom, closing the door behind him with a soft snap.

"So what do you think?" Olivia asked as the three kids headed down the hallway.

"I like him!" Cynthia piped up immediately.

"I like him, too," Timothy said. "Too bad Evinrude didn't show up."

"Oh, that's all right. He'll come eventually. He'll want to eat all the snacks!"

All three of them laughed, gay as little summer flowers as they made their way to Mrs. Brisby's classroom.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 1st, 1993

Over a week had passed since Pinky, Olivia, Timothy, and Cynthia had traveled to their own little Gilligan's Island. Fall was in full swing, with red, orange, and yellow decorating the campus, pumpkin muffins and apple cider stalls set up in various spots around the school, and warm sweaters and boots taking the place of short-sleeved shirts and sandals. The usual hall chatter and gossip traveled throughout the university, with topics ranging from the latest Beverly Hills: 90210 episode... to Nirvana's album release from last month, or, if you were one of the computer nerds, raving over some new game called Myst.

Talk of Halloween was already in the air, with the occasional crow figure or carved Jack-o'-lantern popping up here or there in a classroom. Pinky was considering throwing a party in light of the occasion. Many of the teachers excitedly agreed. Some did not. Basil thought it was a foolish affair, and Mr. Ages could very well have done without. Globetrotter heartily concurred. Strangely, the principal, a normally very hard-lined individual, was all for it. Those who knew him well, however, would have said that costuming and a flair for the dramatic was undoubtedly his thing, and that he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to show off in a vampire wardrobe or kingly dress. While some were turned off by the possibility of his showing up, others were all the more intrigued, and conversation over the matter increased tenfold.

The only thing more interesting than Halloween parties or album covers were Pinky's classes. Olivia had managed to gather up a few more friends over the course of a week. The news had spread fast. Timothy had told Despereaux, who had told Ralph, who had then told Nibbles. Olivia spread the word to Abigail, whom had then blabbed to Teresa and Martin, Timothy and Cynthia's elder sister and brother. One by one, they all showed up, day-by-day. Even Evinrude popped in once or twice, although not because he wanted to. He just wanted to "check on the kids; make sure they were okay" according to him. Olivia rolled her eyes at this, not at all blind to his grabbing a hearty helping of snacks at the end of each session.

Gilligan's Island turned out to be a popular travel spot in Pinky's class. It was the most requested and undoubtedly the most talked about. The theme song alone ended up making the rounds throughout the school. It started with Olivia whistling or humming it down the halls, caught on when several teachers and students copied her, and now whenever she skipped about the university pupils and instructors would often whistle the tune back to her. Even Basil caught himself humming along now and again, although he'd quickly cease and desist, shaking his head, when he realized what he was doing.

The first actual university student to sign up for Trozology was Teresa. She'd been pulled into it by Timothy, and her brother Martin soon followed suit. She'd been hesitant at first; after all, signing up for a new class this late into the semester was unusual, and not even allowed most of the time, but her siblings' interest in it was intriguing. What was meant to be a one-time dip in the pool ended up becoming a daily swimming excursion. Trozology, whatever it was, came with no homework, no punishment for answering a question wrong, no heavy books to lift, and, best of all, no stress. It was the first class she'd ever attended where she felt like she could be herself, and was a welcome reprieve amidst the chaos that was piles upon piles of essays, tests, and expectations she felt were upon her to succeed. This, she thought, would be beneficial to others who were also struggling. She had to tell someone...

"Someone" ended up being a couple of friends in the school. Although they didn't sign up, the idea of being transported to other tangible worlds simply via imagination alone was intriguing, even if they didn't entirely believe her. It was certainly more interesting than most anything else in the school, and Teresa's response to the class was so infectious that they couldn't help but pass by Pinky's classroom door window every now and again to take a peek. All they ever saw, however, was the teacher and maybe half a dozen kids "rowing" in a box on the floor, or standing on top of the desk pretending to climb a mountain, or sometimes just sitting in chairs watching tv. It certainly didn't look very exciting.

"No no! You have to actually participate!" Teresa insisted. "You have to commit!"

Still, no one else signed up, but Teresa continued to attend, perfectly at home with Pinky and the kids. It was fortunate that the principal never came out of his office past 5:00 PM. It was common knowledge that he detested children. Mrs. Judson only allowed them all entrance due to the area and the hour - Pinky's room was located in a section of hallway that the principal rarely frequented, and since his classes always started at 2:00 PM and went no later than 4:00 PM, it got a pass.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

7:01 PM

Down the hall and around a corner, an hour after having dismissed his last class for the day, Globetrotter exited the room, shut the heavy, mahogany door and locked it. His was one of only four doors in the entire university that was equipped with such a mechanism; at least, regarding personnel rooms. The other three were the principal's office, the janitor's closet, and the nurse's office. He'd paid for the installation himself. It wasn't that anything had ever been stolen from his classroom. Indeed, if one pillaged it they'd surely find nothing worth stealing. Globetrotter was simply paranoid, and everyone knew it.

He was late. On some nights, he took to grading students' homework on the property instead of at home, partially to get it over with sooner, but mainly because he wanted to spend extra time in the lab. No one questioned his staying back late. No one would dare to. What he estimated would take half an hour took half an hour more than that. Martha's grammar simply needed policing, and he wouldn't stand for Trevor's snide remark about the Germ-Line Theory being conclusive. If he needed to linger for an entire hour for the sake of science then so be it.

Snap went the door, and Click went the lock as Globetrotter bowed from his office (the better to pick up his heavy suitcase) and made for the elevator.

Back around the corner and down the hall, Pinky closed shut his door, which he did not lock, and made for room three-nineteen. He knocked. There was no answer.

"Hmmmm," Pinky mused.

"Mr. Globetrotter...?" he called, knocking again. "I have something for youuuu!"

Still nothing. Perhaps he'd gone home?

Ding.

Pinky's ears perked. Of course. He must have taken the elevator.

Off he skipped to the elevator hall. No one there. But he could hear the whirring of the machine, and as he looked up at the lit numbers above, he saw that the little arrow was slowly moving down... down... down to the basement level. Goody! That wasn't very far down. He could take the stairwell.

And that's just what he did. Down... down... down to the basement. He hummed as he went, and his humming turned into whistling. He liked the echo it made in the stairwell. It was a bouncy little tune, rather monotonous in nature, but also rather catchy. He wasn't quite sure where it came from, or why it came, but he liked it all the same.

He peeked around the door corner as he made to exit the stairwell, and was about to wave at and call out to Globetrotter, when he paused, keeping uncharacteristically quiet as he watched Brain step off the elevator, shuffle up to the wall, and place his hand on the wall. A little spot on it glowed green, acknowledging his paw print, and the wall... opened up.

Pinky almost gasped out loud, but slapped a paw over his mouth just in time. Once Globetrotter had disappeared behind the wall, Pinky tip-toed up to it and stared at it for a long while, which, for him, was about ten seconds.

"Brain?" he pondered, curious.

What was it he was doing back there?

Pinky looked at the wall. There was no green panel that he could see, but there was a square-ish gray one. He tapped on it tentatively. Nothing happened.

"Hmmm."

He looked at it more closely. There was a little groove in the side. He picked at it.

The little door swung open.

Sure enough, there was the panel. It glowed a bright green color as soon as it was exposed. Pinky cocked his head, looked at his left paw, and touched it to the pad. As soon as he did so, it glowed red and beeped angrily at him twice. No good.

He tried again, and again. Nothing. He even tried putting his foot on it, then his tail, then his tongue, but no matter what he did, it wouldn't gain him access. Seemed like it was Pinky-proof; friendly only to Globetrotter. He sighed and pressed his ear against the wall. If he strained his auditory senses, he could just make out the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard.

"Naaaaaaarf," he remarked to himself in a whisper. "Egad. What are you doing in there, Brain?"

He listened again. Now he could hear bottles clinking around; papers being shuffled. Now nothing at all. And now, swiftly, suddenly, the sound of footsteps slapping across the floor eagerly, drawing ever closer... and closer, right towards the wall...

Author's Notes:

- The potion colors represent aspects of Brain's personality. Cinnamon: Potent, with a bite. Emerald: Outlook on self as royalty/important. Green is also associated with greed and ambition. Lilac: Can symbolize confidence and love. He has a soft heart deep down. Azure: Associated with the sky. I'd like to think of it as he has high and lofty ambitions/goals, but, like the sky (or the ocean), which leads up into space, he's also a vast pool of intrigue and mystery. There's a lot about him that is hidden and undiscovered.

- I thought about making Brain left-handed, but went with ambidextrous instead.

- Brain dealing with bowel issues is a joke, although it will still have pertinence in the story. I just find the idea of a high-ranking professor who considers himself very dignified dealing with explosive diarrhea incredibly funny. XD