The Revenge of Dr Von Burpinburger (2 page)

‘He's my mouse. Mine!'

At the Cheap & Nasty Motel, several blocks from Eric Wimpleby's apartment, Dr von Burpinburger strode back and forth.

‘He belongs to
me
!' The doctor beat his chest and burped. (The doctor always burped when he was excited). ‘Not to that silly Eric Wimplebottom, or whatever his name is.'

‘That's right, Master,' the doctor's assistant, Tikazza Brique, agreed.

‘I
created
him. I implanted the nanocomputer in his brain.' The doctor's face turned purple with fury. ‘And I want him back!'

Dr von Burpinburger and his assistant had tried all sorts of ways to capture the mouse who had escaped from the doctor's castle in the faraway land of Bulgonia.

They hid at the entrance to the apartment building where Eric lived, but the boy used another entrance.

They followed Eric to and from school, hoping for a chance to grab the mouse, but the boy was too fast. He ducked down alleyways and vanished in the city crowd.

They even tried breaking into the building, but the doors were too strong. They disguised themselves as electricians, plumbers and
cleaners, but the security system was too strict. Yesterday they almost got inside as buskers. But their singing was so bad some of the residents chased them off.

‘Think, man. Think.' The doctor gave his assistant a whack over the head to help him think. ‘We have to catch that mouse!'

The whack must have worked, for Brique's eyes brightened. ‘Cat,' he shouted.

‘What did you say?'

‘Cat. It's simple. Cats catch mice. All we need is a cat.'

‘Bah! Cats catch mice, but they also
eat
them, you nincompoop! We want our little mastermind alive.' The doctor was about to whack his assistant again, when he suddenly stopped. ‘Wait. Perhaps that's not such a bad idea at all.'

‘Well, thank you, Master.'

‘Cat. Yes. Brilliant!'

‘You flatter me, Master.'

‘Not you, Brique. Me – I'm brilliant. Cat. Why didn't I think of that before?'

‘But, Master.' Brique wrinkled his brow. ‘I was the one who –'

‘Cat-a-pult!' The doctor held up his finger, and then repeated the word slowly and deliberately. ‘CAT-A-PULT!'

‘I beg your pardon, Master?'

‘Yes! That's how we'll get into their apartment. I'll
catapult
you in.'

Tikazza Brique fell to his knees. ‘Oh no, Master, please. I beg you!'

But the doctor wasn't even listening. He was too busy drawing up plans for his catapult and chuckling to himself. ‘Just you wait, you little rodent!'

Eric slept in the next morning. He didn't play a weekend sport. His parents were too busy for that sort of thing. They worked at least six days a week, leaving before Eric was even awake, and sometimes not arriving home until he was asleep. They were at the office already this morning, like most Saturdays. He wouldn't see them until the afternoon at the earliest.

Einstein had already gone, too. There was a little dent in the pillow where he'd slept. Eric sat up, stretched, and climbed out of bed.

He found the mouse sitting on the rooftop terrace in the morning sun, surrounded by pigeons.

‘They've been telling me all sorts of things,' he said when Eric appeared. ‘Jenny here has a bad case of wing wobble. Mary says her feathers are falling out, and Luke (he's the big one over there)
has been bragging about how good he is at pooping on people's heads.'

Then Einstein stood and grinned at Eric. ‘Hey, watch this!'

He clapped his paws and gave a shrill whistle. The large pigeon called Luke flew up into the air, then swooped down and landed next to Einstein. The mouse climbed onto his back and the bird took off again, flying straight up into the sky.

‘Yahoo!' Einstein yelled from high above the apartment. ‘How wicked is that?'

‘Be careful,' Eric called. He'd already lost a cat when it leapt over the balcony after some pigeons. It fell twenty-three floors onto a taxi. He sure didn't want to lose this little guy.

‘Look at me,' Einstein shouted, waving his arms in the air. ‘No hands!' Eric covered his eyes.

After a spiral dive, the pigeon landed. Einstein jumped off and did a little dance.

‘Fab and fiercesome, eh?' he laughed, holding up his paw for a high five. ‘Totally wild and wowsome!'

‘Daft and dangerous too,' Eric added.

‘Nah! Piece of cheese, pal. And once I've got all the gear –'

‘All the what?'

‘Flying gear. I can't be a pilot without flying gear. Helmet, goggles, gloves, a good pair of boots. I'll be set then.' Einstein pointed to the sky and howled, ‘I want to fly to the moon and back.'

Eric rolled his eyes. ‘I want some breakfast.'

Later that afternoon, Dr von Burpinburger rubbed his hands together. ‘I'm
soooo
brilliant.'

‘Are you sure?' Tikazza Brique asked. Beads of sweat had formed on his brow, and his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

‘Of course I'm sure I'm brilliant!'

‘No, I mean – are you sure this will work, Master?'

‘Of course it will work,' the doctor huffed as he strapped his assistant into the catapult and began tightening the thick rubber strap that would send Tikazza Brique hurtling through the air to Eric's apartment. ‘I am an expert in maths and physics, and I've done all the calculations. You will land exactly in the middle of their rooftop terrace.'

‘Don't you mean
crash
, Master?' the assistant groaned.

‘Oh, stop being such a wimp, Brique,' the doctor growled. ‘Think of the glory.'

‘The what, Master?'

‘The glory! You will have done your bit to capture our little Einstein!'

‘But Master, something feels dreadfully wrong about all this.'

‘What on earth could feel wrong?'

‘Me, Master. I feel wrong. I'm … terrified!'

‘Terrified? Of what?'

‘Heights, Master. I
hate heights
.' His whole body shook with fear.

‘Bah!' Dr von Burpinburger scoffed. ‘All in the mind, Brique.' He tapped his head. ‘All in the mind.'

‘Please, Master,' Brique begged. ‘I'm too young to die!'

‘Don't talk nonsense.' The doctor frowned as he grasped the scissors. ‘You'll give them the fright of their lives. They won't know what hit them.'

‘But Master –'

Before Brique could say another word, Dr von Burpinburger cut the rope.