A/N: AlexFalTalon: Not really no although I have read and written a few food fights before. It's a pretty common trope in certain circles, though I doubt they happen often in real life. Could be wrong about that.

Glad you liked it, I admit I can sometimes (like... maybe here...) go overboard with the fluff. (Balance is hard). Interesting question, which I can't really answer because spoilers and all buuuut... *is* Threeclaw french?

Plenty more of Threeclaw in Redwall coming soon. All your questions shall be answered... soon.

Abrahem: He is quite a show-off, isn't he? Hehehehe, well, what's life without a bit of smugness. Log-a-log and Threeclaw, eh? Hmmm... I may or may not have something like that planned for the future...

Sebias: First thing, Matiya is a squirrel, not a mouse. Yeah, not too great a first (second, or third) impression, but maybe it'll change! I was inspired by all the many vermin that wind up in the abbey- a lot of them don't really er start off wearing habits if you will.

Waycaster: Matiya isn't necessarily 'flying the nest' though the principles of those kinds of conflict still apply. Although I would like to add that Matiya also isn't in direct danger... maybe...

I have not seen baby weasels before though i recently came across baby mice. Are they more easygoing than Fret? Hmmm... we shall see...

I'm flattered. Not sure if it deserves that title but thanks. I'm also not sure if a food fight qualifies as a battle... but I digress. As for casualties... we shall see. Fair warning... things get dark this chapter... maybe...

"Yew ought te be ashamed of yourselves." The Log-a-log placed his paws on his hips and turned up his long shrew nose at the assembled abbeybeasts. The fat shrew was the sole beast present who was not covered in some kind of once-edible matter. Standing atop a patch of mostly-clean flooring (for there was not a single inch of Cavern Hall that was wholly-clean) the Guosim chieftain continued to scold the woodlanders. "Do yew have any idea how long this'll take to clean up? Or how long ye'll take to clean up? Look at this place!" He gestured at the walls. "There is a splatter of meadowcream! I repeat! There is a splatter of meadowcream!" He pointed at the floor. "Is that a turnover or somebeast out cold?"

The Friar sniffed loudly. "It's a flan…"

"It used to be a flan." Bella muttered.

"It was a rhetorical question! What about that, eh? That hotroot is a tripping hazard! And that pile of mush looks like somebeast pulled his pants off an-and- GAH!" Swiftly he averted his eyes from the disgusting blob that used to be food. "Yew tryin' te make me sick or what!? Don't answer that! I didn't give yew permission to answer that Brossin! Ah Brossin! I'm disappointed in yew most of all. When I sent yew an' all my other faithful, obedient Guosim to restore peace in Redwall Abbey at the behest of that laughing otter I expected yew back at yer posts in half an' hour! One. Exact. Hour. Later. I have te go an' do everything myself because yew're all busy wasting vittles! That's right! Wasting vittles! D'ye have any idea how many beasts there are out there without a scrap of nosh to go around? And yer tossin' it all on the floor! On the walls! On each other like yew've all been possessed by some rabid dibbuns! An' when I get here te beat some sense into all of yew lot my other faithful and obedient shrews join in the chaos and start jumping about in the muck!"

The Log-a-log's face was red from shouting, and the overweight chieftain was so irritated by the night's events that he began to hop on the spot- as if he'd been possessed by a grumpy dibbun. This came back to bite him in his rather plump backside when he landed on a wayward muffin and slipped, bringing said backside into the hard floor and a puddle of still-warm soup.

Most of the abbeybeasts had the grace to snicker quietly, though many of the Guosim laughed uproariously. They were all silenced by a stern glare on the part of Bella.

"He is right. We have all behaved in a most unbefitting manner, thank you for pointing that out Log-a-log." She cleared her throat, maintaining all the dignity a Badgermum could while dripping in seven types of cream. A small smile crossed her lips. "None more so than our own Abbot, I'd like to add."

"I beg your pardon?" Abbot Martin removed his pudding-splattered spectacles and wiped them on a soup-stained habit sleeve. Replacing them, he found that in doing so he'd only blinded himself further.

"It's true Abbot sir." Another voice added. "You threw the first pie!"

"Burr!" Buzzed the Foremole, coming to the Abbot's defense. "Oi remembers it t'be yon woisels."

"Of course it was the weasels!" The Log-a-log growled, trying to get to his feetpaws. "I could've told yew that much!" He slipped dramatically and once more became intimate with the floor.

"Yes well, while they may be responsible for the first pie." Abbot Martin cleared his throat. "And the third. But, well I mean you can't blame them truly. They're children."

"Aye."

"We're innocent."

"Anyhow it was Threeclaw's idea."

"Of course it was…" Bella growled.

The Log-a-log harrumphed, slipped and hit the floor. "If he's responsible for this mess-"

"While his actions certainly started the whole mess, the fault lies solely with us." The aged rodent continued far more sternly. "Children will be children. It's not their fault we all joined in on the pie throwing and soup spilling. Log-a-log I seem to recall that as a child you once dropped a bucket of ink on me."

The fat shrew, who had finally managed to get to his feetpaws, harrumphed again. "Yes and you made sure I made up for it by dusting all your recordings. I remember."

"You remember wrong." The Abbot smiled. "I made you dust the recordings for dropping a brick on me. I would have punished you for the ink incident but I distinctly remember you running away."

Laughter filled Cavern Hole and the Log-a-log, sufficiently embarrassed, went pink.

"On the subject of table manners." Abbot Martin smiled brightly, despite the fact that everything was blurred by pudding. "Well… I remember Agatha, that you used to hide tarts in that tail of yours. I'm sure Bella remembers as well."

"Too well I'm afraid." The Badgermum grinned grudgingly. "It was rather hard to wash off. I remember Gord used to hide candied chestnuts in his headspikes."

The Abbot smiled wryly. "I believe he still does."

Snickers and giggles bounced around the food-splattered hall.

"And you were a horrible creature too, Father Abbot."

The laughter doubled in volume, drowning out the aged rodent's protests.

"I remember at one point it was your ambition to eat only with your tail."

Abbot Martin went pink in the cheeks.

"And your fur always had bits of vittles in it too." Bella smiled, knowing full well that she had been just as bad a dibbun as everybeast present, and knowing full well that nobeast was old enough to remember those times.

After a while the laughter died out, leaving a kind of awkward silence in it's wake. Nobeast seemed to know what to do about the mess.

Flounder, who had returned with the first batch of shrews and was now wearing a treacle tart like a hat, gave a wide fake yawn. "I think I'll hit the bed n-"

"Not with filling in your fur, you won't." Bella snorted. "I'm not cleaning vittles out of blankets as well as habits."

There came a collective groan as everybeast present came to the same realization.

"But it's already late." Flounder complained. "And by the time we get all the water heated up it'll be even later."

"I'll heat up the water." Bella growled. "And if you don't want to wait in line you can head to the pond."

"But the pond is cold." Came the complaint of a shrew.

"And yew aren't supposed te wash after a meal."

There was no pity in the Badgermum's voice. "Should've thought of that before you started chucking pies. Everybeast who wants a warm bath can start cleaning this place up. Anybeast who doesn't mind the cold can have a dip in the pond, but no sneaking off now. If I see a single crumb on any of your bedsheets you can spend the rest of the week scrubbing pans."

With much muttering under the breath the assembled creatures got to work. The abbey otters were lucky enough to not mind the cold of the pond and trooped out, followed swiftly by the Guosim shrews. The Friar too, made for the pond, though his was a most slow journey. The poor flabby hedgehog was still mourning the loss of his pudding and seemed in no rush to go anywhere.

"I had better go too." Constance said, dusting off her habit. "To make sure he doesn't drown himself."

Mops and buckets were handed out to the remaining creatures and the arduous task of cleaning Cavern Hall begun.

Bella had a similarly arduous task at paw. Easily scooping up the weasel quartet in her paws (before they could scramble away) she turned to the Abbot.

"I'll bring a tub to the infirmary, and deal with this lot." She gestured at the frantically squirming, biting, clawing dibbuns in her paws. "I trust you can manage in my absence?"

Martin nodded once, and stifled a yawn. "Yes, yes. It er- shouldn't be hard now that everybeast's gotten started. I daresay you have the harder task."

Bella snorted. "I think I can handle a few weasels."

A short while later...

"Hold still!" The badger snapped, marching towards the infirmary in all haste. It was only a matter of time before one of the monsters wriggled free and it was preferable that they do so with the tub in-sight.

"Lemme go!"

"Dumb badger!"

"Stupid big paws!"

"Bite her fingers!"

"Why don't ye bite them?"

"I am bitin'!"

"Now yer talkin'!"

"I know I'm talkin'!"

"Well ye both ought te be bitin'!"

How did the Abbot tell them apart!? To Bella they all looked and sounded the same. And while their baby teeth could not hope to do much damage to her, their tiny fangs were sharp! Luckily for the badgermum the infirmary was in sight! And so was Threeclaw...

The stoat looked just as smug and refined as ever as he exited. "Ah, good evening mademoiselle." He waved at her, as if to show off his horribly scarred paw and waited for her to draw closer. "I am guessing you are being here for a bath?" He smirked and pushed the infirmary door open wider, revealing a large, steaming bucket, surrounded by a neat pile of towels, sponges and soap bars. "The tub awaits. I recommend the lavender balm. It is very soothing and gets all the pie crusts out of your f-" He was interrupted by Bella's snarl and flinched at the sight of her bare fangs.

"You! Do you have any idea what state you left Cavern Hole in? After we so mercifully didn't tear you apart-"

"I beg your pahr-don?"

"Don't play dumb with me! You told them to throw a pie-" She thrust the weasels forwards. "You started the whole-"

"Perhaps, yes. That was a mistake on the part of moi. But you all seemed so civilized, how was I supposed to know you would all start being children?" He smiled widely and Bella had to restrain herself from dumping the entire wash basin over his head. "Where will I be sleeping?"

It was the badger' turn to smile. It was the kind of sinister one only a truly wicked beast could conjure up. "You can head to the Hall and help wash the mess you've made. Once everybeast else has washed up I'll be more than happy to show you to your quarters."

Threeclaw frowned deeply but made no further conversation. Bella made her way into the infirmary and slammed the door shut behind her. A part of the badger hoped she had hit him.

That part of her would have been very happy to see the albino rubbing the back of his head and muttering all the foreign swear words in his vast vocabulary. Needless to say Threeclaw was not a fan of the badger. Yet a part of him now pitied her, probably because of all the commotion coming from within the infirmary.

"You will have clean fur whether you like it or not!"

Splash! Bang! Crash!

"Hold still!"

"But I wanna chew pie outta my tail!"

"You already did! Now quit squirming!"

Bang! Crash! Splash! Splash!

Resisting the urge to loudly comment on how much more slippery weasels became in soapy water, Threeclaw turned away from the infirmary.

"Get back here right this instant!"

The stoat paused for a moment and darted to the side to avoid the door being swung open. One of the triplets was making a break for freedom, laughing at the top of her little voice. Bella was hot on her heels and slammed the door open again. Threeclaw, unfortunately, was not quick enough to avoid it this time and was squashed against the wall.

Oblivious to the stoat's plight Bella snatched up the little troublemaker and stomped back into the infirmary. "Now where did the rest of you go?!"

Not wanting any more doors in his face (or any other part of him), Threeclaw pulled himself free of the wall and made his way towards Cavern Hole.

"Typical woodlanders." He muttered, rubbing a sore muzzle.

On his way there he passed Constance and a group of dripping wet otters, very carefully carrying the prone, soaked and shivering from of Friar Gord.

"Told you not to jump in mate."

"We figured you wanted to get it over with."

"But you ought to remember that sudden changes in temperature can have adverse effects on the bodily constitution of most creatures."

"I bet he'll catch a cold."

Constance snorted. "Not on my watch. We just have to get him dried up and near a fire."

"Yeah, and fetch his apron from the pondside."

"He loves his apron."

Threeclaw, having gone unnoticed, continued on his way and soon reached Cavern Hole. The stoat was forced to admit that the creatures of Redwall seemed just as adept at cleaning a mess as they were at making one. Tables and chairs had been shoved into a mostly-clean corner, to be scrubbed spotless before being returned to their rightful places. A large section of the floor and walls were already squeaking and sparkling in the candlelight.

"I see you've washed up." Came the bitter voice of Blind Agatha. "Any idea where my son is?"

Threeclaw turned to her and replied in his most curt voice that he did not know. He replied in French of course, which the squirrelmaid had no hope of understanding.

"Forget I asked." She growled, turning back to her mop.

"I already have." The stoat pointed a claw at a single, microscopic crumb. "And you have been missing spots."

Another growl followed and Threeclaw's smile only brightened. "If you're here to help go bother somebeast else!"

"And if I am being here for another reason?"

"Then get out of my fur!" Blinded by fury Agatha mopped faster and harder.

"But I am not being in your fur. If you are wanting me somewhere else I will go somewhere else, but you know it is tres kind of moi to be helping vous. I could have snuck off but I did not."

"Either way you're not helping!" She hissed venomously.

"Oh but I am." He nodded wisely. "Look how much faster you are cleaning the floor now that I am ici."

The squirrel gave a final growl. "Just go scrub chairs or something."

The stoat gave a bow in return. "Comme vous voulez. Oh and tu missed another spot."

Shaking with rage Agatha threw her mop to the floor and stomped towards the doorway. A few beasts looked up from where they were working, and in response to their gazes she shouted,"I'm braving the pond then! Good night!", and slammed the door shut.

"Was it something I said?" Threeclaw was the picture of (false) innocence for all of a minute before shrugging and picking up the squirrelmaid's abandoned mop. The stoat proceeded to continue mopping the clean side of Cavern Hole with very slow, gentle motions as if he were dusting a great and ancient artifact at risk of crumbling to pieces.

After a while Rosebrush noticed and came striding towards him. The mouse wore a small smile and gave a small wave, which the stoat replied to with a wild waggle of his paw. "You seem perdue, mademoiselle. How can I help you?"

"Er yes, that's the thing really. I was just going to ask if you could take your things over there." She pointed at the far messier part of Cavern Hole, where the remaining abbeybeasts were busy at work.

Threeclaw gave the tart-splattered walls one look, before shaking his head dramatically. "I would help of course, mon cherie. Mais you see I have just washed up and I would rather not have to go through bathing again."

Rosebrush tried to backtrack, sensing an incoming excuse with the ingrained instinct of every mother. "Oh no! No, no, no you won't get dirty just do wh-"

Threeclaw went on as if he had not heard her. "You see soap burns us."

This took the mouse by surprise. "Soa- what?"

"Oui. Burns. Like a blazing fire that sticks to your fur and turns you to ashes."

Rosebrush frowned, scratching the top of her head. "Okay. Er- well I suppose then-"

"So really I am desole, but I do not want to have to go through the process again."

"I guess that's understandab-"

"I am joking."

"Oh?" The mouse looked up at him.

"It's more like a nettle stinging."

"Wha- soap, right?"

"Mais bien sur!" He exclaimed, nodding swiftly. "It's why we vermin generally-"

Threeclaw's exaggerated lie was interrupted by the arrival of Bella. The badger was soaked nose to tail and greatly resembled a volcano about to erupt. Cavern Hall grew silent as all eyes turned to the Badgermum.

"I take it the weasels were er-" Abbot Martin paused desperately to find the right word. "Difficult?"

"They're impossible." Bella snarled. "Scrub one, the other three are causing mischief. Catch one, the other three run away. They're four times worse than Fret ever was and I've had more than enough for tonight!"

"Well… there are four of-"

"They are four times worse each." Bella snapped. Taking a deep breath the badgermum went on in a slightly less aggressive tone. "At the moment they're laying waste to the infirmary and I thought I'd get some help before they-"

"Mais you have come to the right place." Threeclaw exclaimed, thrusting his mop into Rosebrush's paws. "There is not a single beast in the abbey plus qualified than I to deal with les petites rascals. Allow moi."

Bella gave the stoat a look of pure disdain. "And what makes you think you can handle them?"

Threeclaw gave a theatrical shrug. "What makes you think I can't?"

The Badgermum sensed the challenge hidden in his words. Wordlessly she rose to her feetpaws and stomped back out. Pausing at the doorway Bella gave a small, irritated jerk of her head, as if she were trying to throw off a fly.

Smirking, Threeclaw followed in her wake.

The infirmary was a mess. It was not quite as horrible as Cavern Hole, but that was hardly saying much. The stoat winced at the sight of a shredded towel and resisted the urge to ask how on earth a tiny weasel had managed to inflict so much damage. A mirade of soaps lay strewn about on the floor- a dangerous tripping hazard that would no doubt cripple somebeast if it were not cleared up at once. Most of the sponges had bite or claw marks on them, and were in similar disarray. The tub at least, was still intact, though stripped off a third of its contents. Many a puddle of bubble water lay upon the floor, as if the weather had decided to rain indoors.

After a short while of admiring the chaos, Threeclaw ventured to ask. "So where are les petites-"

"There." Bella growled, pointing at the window, where Bow, Fang, Jewel and Cheese were swinging from the curtains. The Badgermum allowed herself a scoff. "Good luck with them."

"Amigos!" He cried, waving to gain their attention. "If you hurry and wash up now you can have another food fight tomorrow!"

Bella blinked, and watched in horror as the dibbuns came racing forwards, apparently very anxious to have another culinary battle. Her temper, already frayed by the day's events, came to a boil.

Threeclaw smirked and tapped the side of his head knowingly. "You see madame badger, it is just a matter of knowing. A few promises, the right noirmail and you can get anybeast to do anything." He smirked and tapped the side of his head knowingly. Frowning at her lack of reply, and becoming distinctly aware of a shadow standing over him, the stoat turned around just in time to see the whole tub of bath water unceremoniously dumped upon him.

The quartet of weasel's approach came to an abrupt end, deciding that it was probably best for them to vacate the premises as quickly as possible.

The force of the water had knocked Threeclaw off his feetpaws and flat on his rump. The stoat spluttered and hastily wiped at his eyes. "What on earth was that for? Tu grand champignon! You got me all wet and everything! And made a mess of the place like the big, stupid-"

"Get out!" The Badgermum roared.

Threeclaw did not need to be told twice, and scrambled to his feetpaws. In his mad dash for the door he slipped on a bar of soap and came crashing to the floor. His momentum, and the fact that he was covered in soap water, carried him away, as if he were sliding on ice.

Growling once more, yet feeling slightly satisfied, Bella turned away from the door and began the arduous task of collecting soap bars. We wouldn't want anybeast to slip on one, now would we?

Swallowing in terror the weasel quartet slipped out of the infirmary. A few pawsteps away and they turned and fled full-speed towards the safety of the cellars, desperate to put as much distance between themselves and the crazy badger cleaner as possible.

Footnote: Harmless filler chapter. More on the Redwall front after a quick check-in on the Salamandastron crew (and possibly a Drabble or two)...