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My Name Is Stilton, Geronimo Stilton Page 2


  nutritious. And very expensive.”

  “How did you do it?” I asked. I was

  impressed.

  She shrugged. “No sweat,” she said.

  23

  “Anyone could do it.”

  “But I searched for days, and I couldn’t find

  it,” I said.

  “I’m sure you would have found it ...

  someday,” Pinky said. Her eyes

  TWINKLED

  .

  “Maybe I could use your help after all,” I

  muttered. “Just for small jobs, of course.”

  “Give me another problem!” Pinky shouted.

  “I’m ready to go!”

  I covered my ears. “Calm down!” I cried.

  “Your voice is

  L

  O

  U

  D

  E

  R

  than your

  outfit.”

  I looked through my notes. “Here is

  something,” I said. “Fuzzy Fuzzborn is in

  town. The ROCK singer. Every

  reporter in town wants to interview him.”

  I am not a big fan of Fuzzy Fuzzborn’s. As I

  said before, I don’t like loud rock music. But

  he is one of the most popular mice on Mouse

  Island. An interview with Fuzzy would be

  great for The Rodent’s Gazette. There was

  only one problem.

  “Fuzzy never gives interviews,” I told

  Pinky. “He is a pretty cranky rat. Not

  even you could handle this one. No

  one can! I will find something else.”

  But Pinky had already strapped on

  her IN-LINE SKATES. She pushed off

  my desk and zoomed toward the

  door.

  “ONE INTERVIEW,

  COMING UP!” she cried.

  I tried to jump out of the

  way. But there was no

  time.

  That little mouse

  skated right over

  my tail!

  25

  TRICKS OF THE

  TRADE

  Pinky skated in two hours later. “Here’s

  your interview, Boss,” she said. “I even took

  pictures of him!”

  I was shocked. “But Fuzzy Fuzzborn

  never gives interviews. To anyone!”

  I squeaked. “

  How did you do it?

  ”

  Pinky sat down. She

  plopped

  her

  big platform sneakers on my desk.

  “Take your fishy footwear off my desk!” I

  cried.

  “All right, all right,” Pinky said, lowering

  her paws. “Don’t get your fur

  frazzled

  , Boss.

  Don’t you want to read the interview?”

  To tell the truth, I wanted to read the

  interview very badly. An interview with Fuzzy

  Pinky took a signed photo of Fuzzy out of her

  backpack.

  27

  Fuzzborn! What a SCOOP! But I didn’t

  want Pinky Pick to see how EXCITED I

  was. She might get the wrong idea. Like that

  I actually wanted her to be my assistant.

  Pinky winked at me. “Let me tell you all

  about it, Uncle Geronimo,” she said.

  “Uncle? How dare you call me that!” I

  shrieked.

  “OK,” said Pinky. “How about Pops?”

  “You can’t call me Pops, either!” I said.

  “Call me Mr. Stilton. I am your boss, after

  all.”

  As soon as I’d uttered the word boss, I

  realized my mistake. But it was too late.

  “Aha!” Pinky said. “If you are my boss, that

  means I am your new assistant. Right?”

  “Fine, fine!” I said. The little mouse

  had finally worn me down.

  “Just

  show me the interview, please!”

  At that moment, my sister, Thea, ran into

  the office. Thea is a special correspondent for

  The Rodent’s Gazette. She knows everything

  that happens in New Mouse City.

  Thea ran up to Pinky and shook her paw.

  “GOOD job, kid! ” my sister said. “I heard

  about the interview with Fuzzy. How did

  you do it?”

  Pinky grinned. “Check this out,” she said.

  She took alarge photo of Fuzzy Fuzzborn out

  of her backpack. Fuzzy had signed it:

  To Pinky Pick, the most adorable,

  fabumouse, smartest mouse on

  Mouse Island.

  29

  “This is how I did it,” Pinky said. “I wrote

  him a letter. It went like this:

  Dear Fuzzy,

  I am your biggest fan! I know all of your songs by heart.

  I have covered thewallsin my roomwith your pictures.

  When I grow up, I want to be just like you!

  “Then I added some details,” Pinky went

  on. “I said I had a mean boss who made me

  work day and night for no pay. I told him you

  forced me to interview him or you would

  fire me.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Such lies! I had not

  forced Pinky to do anything. She was the one

  who forced herself on me!

  “Well, I never—” I began. But the phone

  rang before I could finish. I picked it up.

  “Hello. Is this Stilton, Geronimo Stilton?”

  the caller asked.

  I recognized the voice right away. It was

  Fuzzy Fuzzborn!

  “Yes, I am Geronimo Stilton,” I said. I was

  EXCITED. “I am so pleased you did an

  interview for our paper, Mr. Fuzzborn.”

  “I only did it to help out that sweet little

  mouse who works for you!” Fuzzy snapped.

  “Shame on you! How dare you make her

  work day and night! What kind of a terrible

  boss are you? She is just a little mouselet!”

  I started to tell him the truth, but Pinky

  slapped her

  paw

  over my mouth.

  “Oh, my assistant has a great imagination,”

  I managed to mumble. “I am sure she was

  stretching the truth a bit.”

  But Fuzzy did not believe me.

  “Shame on you, Stilton!”

  he squeaked.

  31

  HOW

  EMBARRASSING!

  Fuzzy was shouting.

  How embarrassing!

  Fuzzy Fuzzborn was one of the most

  famouse rats on Mouse Island. And he

  thought I was a first-class creep ! What if he

  started spreading Pinky’s story around? My

  reputation would be ruined. And it was all

  Pinky’s fault.

  That’s it, I decided. I

  can’t have this meddling

  mouse as my assistant.

  “

  Y

  o

  u

  s

  t

  i

  n

  k

  w

  o

  r

  s

  e

  t

  h

  a

  n

  a

  h

  u

  n

  k

  o

  f

  r

  o

  t

  t

  e

  n

  c

  h

  e

  e

  s

  e

  ,

 
S

  t

  i

  l

  t

  o

  n

  !

  ”

  BEFORE I COULD SAY

  ANYTHING, Pinky pressed the

  speaker button on my phone. Fuzzy’s voice

  rang out through the office.

  “And another thing, Stilton,” Fuzzy said.

  “That little assistant of yours is a genius! Her

  interview was brilliant. She really understands

  me and my music. I am thinking of letting

  her write my biography.”

  All thoughts of firing Pinky left my brain.

  Fuzzy Fuzzborn’s biography? That was an

  even bigger S

  C

  O

  O

  P

  than the interview!

  Pinky Pick grinned. She sat down and put

  her big shoes on my desk.

  I motioned for her to move

  her paws.

  She didn’t. Instead, she

  made a face

  at me!

  32

  33

  THE DAILY RAT

  I started thinking about firing Pinky again.

  Biography or not, she was just too much!

  Fuzzy was still talking. “You are lucky to

  have an assistant like

  PINKY PICK

  ,

  Stilton,” he said. “I am sure she could teach

  you a thing or two. You’d better keep her

  happy or you might lose her!”

  “Of course, Fuzzy. Of course,” I said. But

  inside I was still fuming.

  Fuzzy finally hung up. Pinky jumped out of

  her seat.

  “I think it’s time for a raise, Boss!” she

  shouted.

  My furry face flushed red . “RAISE!” I

  shrieked. “But I just HiReD you!”

  Pinky winked at me. “Too bad. I guess I

  34

  could always go work for the competition.”

  I turned as PALE as a piece of mozzarella.

  The Daily Rat was my biggest competition in

  New Mouse City. If Pinky worked there, they

  would get the Fuzzy Fuzz born interview. And

  the biography. I gulped.

  “Now, don’t be hasty, Pinky,” I said. “Aren’t

  you happy here at The Rodent’s Gazette with

  your uncle Gerry? ”

  Pinky smiled. “Here’s the deal,” she said,

  slapping her paws on my desk. “I want a

  huge . . .no, a mega-huge bonus each year.

  I love to travel, so I also need

  three months of paid vacation.

  And I want all my expenses

  paid, including my clothes. I

  need to keep up with the

  latest trends.” She pointed to

  her BAGGY sweatshirt.

  35

  “Well, that’s all very expensive,”I said.

  Pinky sat downand folded her arms behind

  her head. “I understand, Boss. If you don’t

  like the deal, I can always go somewhere

  else. I already have an idea for Fuzzborn’s

  biography.”

  Pinky’s gaze moved to the top of my desk.

  A copy of The Daily Rat stared up at us.

  I would not let them scoopme

  with the Fuzzy Fuzzborn story. I could not

  let that happen!

  “Whatever you want, Pinky,” I said.

  “Whatever you want!”

  36

  THE ASSISTANT’S

  ASSISTANT

  So it was all settled. Pinky Pick was my new

  assistant. The Rodent’s Gazette was going to get

  the Fuzzy Fuzzborn interview and biography.

  I arrived at my office early the next morning,

  ready for a calm and peaceful day.

  But I had not even finished my cheese pastry

  when Pinky Pick burst through my door.

  “I have NEWS, Boss!” she squeaked.

  “NEWS about Fuzzy?” I asked hopefully.

  “No, there is more NEWS, "she said."Come"

  on, ask me what it is.”

  "All right, Pinky” I said. “What is it?”

  Pinky moved to one side. “Ta-da!” she

  shouted.

  A small female mouse stepped out from

  37

  behind Pinky. She looked like she was about

  fourteen, too.

  I asked.

  “My name is

  MerryMelody

  ,” she said

  shyly.

  “Shouldn’t you be in school?” I asked.

  Pinky laughed. “It’s CHRISTMAS vacation!

  There is no school. By the way, this is Merry—

  my new assistant !”

  “Assistant!” I shouted. “Who said you were

  allowed to have an assistant?”

  Pinky did not answer.Instead,she unhooked

  the

  bi

  g diar

  y

  from her backpack. She

  OPENED

  it up to reveal a built-in

  CALCULATOR.

  “Hmm,” she said, punching in numbers.

  “With Merry’s help, I could write Fuzzy’s

  biography faster. I could do it in one month

  instead of two!”

  “

  W

  H

  O

  A

  R

  E

  Y

  O

  U

  ?

  ”

  A CHEESE-SCENTED

  DIARY

  Pinky had my attention. Of course, it was

  ridiculous for an assistant to have an assistant.

  But if Fuzzy’sbiography could get done faster

  that way...

  “All right,” I said. “But how much will your

  assistant cost me?”

  Pinky whispered a number in my ear.

  “Holey cheese!” I cried in

  HORROR. “I could buy a lifetime supply of

  cheddar with that kind of money!”

  Then Pinky whispered something else in

  my ear.

  “wha t?” I asked. “How much did

  The Daily Ratoffer you?”

  I had no choice. I had to hire Merry or lose

  Pinky—and Fuzzy Fuzzborn—to The Daily

  Rat.

  The morning had been much too

  40

  exciting for me. I wanted to forget about

  Pinky Pick—just for a little while. So later

  that day, I called a meeting of my staff at the

  publishing house.

  I asked my sales manager for a report. “We

  need to make new products,” Shif T. Paws

  said. “Something MODERN. Something

  exciting . Something for today’s youth.”

  From behind me, a small voice said,

  I cringed. Pinky Pick ran into the room,

  carrying a stack of papers.

  “How about a diary with cheese-scented

  pages? A series of biographies on rock

  singers? Or a backpack on wheels?” she

  asked. “And here’s the best idea of all. We

  should publish a magazine for young mice.

  We can call it FOr KidS Only. And I

  think the right rodent for the job is . . . me!”

  “

  N

  o

  p

  r

  o

  b

  l

  e

  m

  !

  I

  h

  a

  v

  e

  l

  o

  t

  s


  o

  f

  i

  d

  e

  a

  s

  !

  ”

  41

  HOW COULD YOU?

  My staff gobbled up

  Pinky’s IDEAS like

  hungry rats at an all-

  you-can-eat cheese

  bar. I had to admit,

  her ideas were all

  pretty good.

  We started production

  on everything. The cheese-scented

  diary. The magazine. It all sold like

  crazy.

  I started to think that hiring Pinky

  Pick was not such a bad idea after all.

  Sure, she is loud .And pushy. And wears

  ridiculous clothes, I told myself. But she

  knows how to make money for this company!

  My mouse-gray walls had been splattered with paint!

  43

  So I had a smile on my snout as I walked

  into my building a few days later. I opened

  my office door and stepped inside.

  For a second, I thought I had gone through

  the wrong door. The room looked like Pinky’s

  office.

  But then I saw my desk, my papers, my

  cheese-shaped paperweight....

  “CHEESE NIBLETS!” I shrieked.

  “Pinky, what have you done?”

  My lovely mouse-gray walls had been

  splattered with paint. Lines, squiggles, and

  doodles in bright colors stared back

  at me. Red, blue, yellow, green, purple, and

  pink. Shocking PINK ,of course!

  Pinky ran into the room, waving a spray

  can. “How do you like it, Boss?” she asked.

  “I did it for free. Because I like you!”

  “If you really liked me, you would have left

  my office alone!” I

  W AILED

  .

  Just then, Merry flung open the door. She

  rushed into the room.

  The door slaMMed into my snout.

  I fell against the coat stand. The stand fell

  on my head.

  I stumbled. One pawlanded in the

  umbrella stand. The other paw landed on

  top of the computer plug.

  A

  S HO CK

  of electricity raced

  through me.

  “Yeeow!” I shrieked. My fur stood on end.

  I broke away from the plug and slammed

  into Pinky. Her spray can went off, and orange

  paint sprayed my snout.