The Archer Mice of Middle-earth

by Varda


The Departure of Boromouse

Pipsqueak and Merrimouse clung to each other, transfixed with horror as Lurkat swaggered towards them, anticipating a mouse lunch.

The massive feline paused in front of them, sitting on its great furry rear (Dublin Four cats are fat cats) licking its long silvery whiskers. Its great yellow eyes gleamed. It hissed;
'Alive and unspoiled, said Sarumouse.' Lurkat frowned. 'Why unspoiled? Surely Lurkat deserves a bit off the flank...'
And a great grey paw shot out and trapped Pipsqueak against the ground. But before Lurkat could help himself to a rodent snack, there was a blur of mouse grey and Boromouse sprang in front of him, bringing his sword, a cheese knife adapted and ground to a point, down on Lurkat's foot...

A catty yowl cut the air. Boromouse sniggered;
'Still sharp, you foul feline!'

Lurkat sprang back, and Boromouse leaped between him and the halfmice, who cheered him on;
'Go, Boromouse!'

But Lurkat was devious as well as big. He made a feint and Boromouse fell for it. His blade sank into a plastic traffic cone and as the brave rodent struggled to pull it out Lurkat pounced, raking Boromouse with his deadly claws. Boromouse fell mortally wounded.

At once the Balmogs, waiting for their leader to finish off the great mouse warrior, bounded forward and snatched up Merrimouse and Pipsqueak and bore them away.

Lurkat would have finished Boromouse off but a Rugby international was on that day in Lansdowne Road and a large number of Scottish fans were making their way down to the match. A great phalanx of kilted Scots rugby fans just then came round the corner, sporrans swinging.

Appalled by the sight of so many hairy legs, Lurkat momentarily fell back. When the kilts had passed, there stood before him a vision of retribution; a tall, stern mouse bearing a great shining blade (part of a Newbridge Cutlery set unwisely left on the table in a house in Raglan Road...) Aramouse!

'Come on then, cat' he snarled 'Make my day!'

And without further warning Aramouse sprang on the vast feline, hacking and slashing. Lurkat batted at him with his paw, but got jabbed for his pains.

Lurkat sprang backwards, not looking where he was going, and landed on a Scot. Long claws raked bare legs and there was a loud burst of swearing in Scottish. A swirl of kilts and a burst of bagpipes and Lurkat was thrown, arcing gracefully and yowling loudly, into the Grand Canal.

Without pausing to savour his triumph, Aramouse knelt down and cradled his wounded comrade in his arms.
'Boromouse!' he cried. 'I'm sorry I took so long! I was stuck in traffic....'
'The halfmice....' said Boromouse through his pain. 'The Orkats took them....'
'Whatever for?' wondered Aramouse 'There's not much eating on a halfmouse...'
'Not to eat!' gasped Boromouse in irritation 'They think they have the...whatever it is...'
'They've been mousenapped, you mean?'
'Yes, yes' groaned Boromouse 'do I have to spell everything out?'
'No! said Aramouse brightly 'It's spelt m-o-u-s-e-n...'
'Oh shut up you idiot, and listen!' snapped Boromouse.
'Sorry...' said a contrite Aramouse.
'You must go to Mouse Tirith, Aramouse' panted Boromouse. '..and save my mice...'
'From what?' asked Aramouse, perplexed. Boromouse put a paw over his eyes.
'I can't believe that you are the hero of this story, Aramouse, you're as thick as two planks. Never mind, just do it...'
'Do what? Sorry, Boromouse, I lost you there....'
'Save my City!' squeaked Boromouse in rage.

Suddenly realising that he had been entrusted with a sacred duty, Aramouse puffed up his mouse chest and laid a paw on Boromouse and said;
'I will go to Mouse Tirith, and save our Mice.'
'Our Mice!' sobbed Boromouse with joy. 'My rodent, my Captain, My King....'

Later, when the remainder of the Fellowship of the Heroic Archer Mice, Gilmouse, Legomouse and Aramouse, had gathered in a sad group on the banks of the Grand Canal, Boromouse was laid in a McDonald's burger carton, with his Newbridge cutlery blade at his side and his dog whistle close to his paw, and gently pushed out into the stream....

And whether his sombre bark ever reached the wide expanse of the Irish Sea, or was taken up by the currents of the foaming Dodder, or washed into the calm pool of Alexander Docks, this tale does not tell, but it is said that wild swans wintering in Union Dock Basin escorted the brave Gondormouse to a final resting place far out past the Pigeon House Power Station.....