The Rockin' Rodents

Wayne and Bill

Johnny headed off and Ger went back to the shop, mouse in tow.

"Well, now we're putting your band back together can I continue the story of how my first group formed?" asked Jerry Lee Mouse.

"I'm working," said Ger. The mouse looked around the empty shop.

"Yeah kid, you're rushed off your feet. You could always sweep the floor, I guess."

"OK, OK" Ger relented, "continue the story."

When they got home, Jerry asked if he could go see his friends, Wayne and Bill. His mother who had been worried about him said yes, presumably to talk to his father about what had happened in private.

Wayne and Bill could always be found hanging out at the local Youth club. It was through them that Jerry had discovered rock. They were the "Cool kids" at school. They lived and breathed rock music and knew all the local bands even though they didn't play themselves. Jerry knew he could count on them to find him some bandmates and use doing homework at their houses as a cover for practicing at the dump.

When he found them, they were with another mouse. This was the punkiest mouse Jerry had ever seen. His bright fluorescent pink Mohawk was as tall as he was. His leather jacket was full of safety pins. He wore big chunky Doc martin boots and rolled up the end of his jeans.

He was also playing the bass. He wasn't playing it very well, but he was playing it. Besides, his friends Wayne and Bill, who stood next to him in their standard uniform of jeans, trainers, and T-shirts which were always the covers of some band's album, were headbanging along to the sound, the thick sound shaking everything like the footsteps of a T-Rex. Jerry saw the opportunity to get his first band member.

"Hi, guys!" Jerry shouted over the deep booming. The punk mouse stopped playing, the three mice greeted Jerry.

"Hey Jerry, this is Ronny Rotten and mouse he's looking to put together a band," said Bill.

"Great! Me too!" replied Jerry.

"You? I thought your Dad made you get rid of her guitar," Wayne said "which is cheddar by the way," he added. Wayne and the cool kids at school used a lot of made-up words. Cheddar meant something bad, at least that's what Jerry thought it meant.

"Yeah, totally cheddar, mouse" added Bill. That was another thing the head-bangers twins did. They used the word mouse like a rhetorical question at the end of every sentence like they weren't too sure if you were there or knew what you were. It would be like your dad saying "Hi man" to another man.

"Eh! I got around that problem. A guitarist called Jimmy Halloumi has given me a rehearsal space" he said, realizing that again he was stretching the truth a little. Jimmy had said he could practice at the dump, he hadn't said anything about not practicing with a group. Of course, at this stage, Jerry was lying to himself, as liars often do. It was obvious from Jimmy's reaction to him and the mouse in black that Jimmy didn't like company too much, but having a rehearsal space in Sewerville was like winning the lottery to Jerry and nothing was going to stop him from putting his band together.

Except perhaps the Headbanger brothers.

"Well, mouse, you're stuff, well you know, it's got a lot of heart but..."

"It blows chunks of cheese" Wayne interrupted Bill.

"Yeah, it blows chunks of cheese... I mean, no mouse, it's all about the heart. It's got to have soul," said Bill who was the better-natured of the two brothers.

"Yeah, well I'm practicing hard now, and I want to start a band. So, are you in?" he asked Johnny.

"Who else have you got?" asked Johnny.

"Who else?"

"Yeah, who else have you got for the band?" Johnny's question strongly implied that he didn't believe a word of what Jerry was saying, especially since his friends didn't appear to be too sold on his music skills.

"Jimmy Halloumi on lead guitar, me on rhythm guitar, and you on bass" Jerry calmly explained his imaginary lineup to Johnny.

"Who's this Jimmy Halloumi?" asked Wayne.

"Yeah, more like Jimmy whohimee" chimed in Bill.

Jerry produced the photo. "This is Jimmy Halloumi, Rolling Cheese magazine rates him as the number one guitarist of all time," actually, Jerry was lying through his two front teeth now, and so couldn't have known that Rolling Cheese magazine had Jimmy at only number sixty-eight, but to be fair, Jimmy had gotten a lot better in his years of playing at the dump. Anyway, the idea that music is a competition that people can vote on and rate, rather than making something beautiful is absurd.

"Wow! Cool! Look, Bill! Grandpa rock! When did you take this photo? Do you have a time machine?"

Wayne joked.

"Yeah, does he play "sans" hearing aid," said Bill who insisted on physically putting inverted commas on foreign words with his fingers.

"I know who he is. That's why I don't believe you," Ronny interrupted the good-natured ribbing.

"Come to the dump, tomorrow at half six and you'll see I'm telling the truth," Jerry bluffed.

The hamster considered the proposition for a moment and decided that he had nothing to lose.

"OK, I'm in," Ronny said, spitting on his hand and offering it to Jerry.

"Um OK," answered Jerry squeamishly and took Johnny's slimy spit smeared hand.

"Oh, and I need you guys to cover for me if my parents ask, I'm at your guy's house doing homework," Jerry said to the Head Banger brothers.

"Sure!" answered Wayne.

"No problemo," said Bill.

"Stilton!" yelled the two brothers as they made bull-horned head shapes with their fingers, and followed it up with an (at least visually) epic air guitar solo. Jerry took Stilton to mean the opposite of cheddar and returned home to get a good rest and figure out how to convince Jimmy to join their band.